To sleep in your arms
by blackkyu
Summary: Sequel to "To die in your arms", several reincarnations latter, Jamie finally meets Jack Frost, only, he's a slightly eccentric kid at his school? When new mysteries keep popping up around Jack and memories that shouldn't exist worm their way into Jamie's heart, can he figure out what going on before it's to late? Jamie/Jack
1. To meet again

**Disclaimer: I own naughta**

**To meet again…**

Jack Frost was a mystery.

Not because his background was, mind you, for everyone knew of how his family was slaughtered, burnt to a crisp; but because he wasn't particularly close to anyone. Sure he knew everyone's name by heart (something that Jamie could never do), and sure he was well known throughout the school, and well beloved by all, but no one really knew him.

No one noticed how, whenever Jamie was near, those shimmering smiles would dampen just a bit, yet glow with some new radiant light, as if seeing a long lost friend, but realizing they had no idea who you were.

And no one would notice how much the boy hated wearing his shoes, always fidgeting with the laces, an adorable frown on his face. No one noticed how he never ate, they just assumed he did, what, with all the lunches the girls packed for him. He'd accept them gracefully, a teasing smile on his face causing the girls to swoon, but he'd always declare he'd eat them later. Hidden from the eyes of those jealous boyfriends and the like, but no one was really jealous of him, for Jack screamed safety, protection, and trust, his cocky attitude and humor gaining him the eternal spot of cute older brother.

Jack could vanish for hours, and no one would mind, it just seemed normal, but no one knew he went to the frozen pond in the forest, gracefully sliding into the center, arms outstretched, staff clasped in one hand, hair dancing in the breeze…it was a beautiful sight, one that Jamie claimed as his own.

Yet there was other things that made Jack mysterious—plenty more, Jamie was sure of it, but those mysteries where for another time—like how Jamie knew a little too much about him. Then again, perhaps this knowledge was a mystery that belonged to Jamie…yet, somehow, he knew that Jack belonged to him as well.

Oh yes, Jamie noticed practically everything about Jack, noticed how he'd balance his pencil on thin fingers whenever he was concentrating, noticed his love for high places, his love for children, how he could stick his hand into freezing water, playing with the fish bellow, without a care in the world.

In fact, Jamie noticed a little too much, and on those day's he'd follow Jack to the pond, he'd dully note that he'd become a stalker; but he didn't really care.

As for what he knew, now that was a mystery, one that only revealed itself when passing girls had pondered through giggles—they had just come back from handing "the cute big brother" his lunch—what his skin would taste like. At the time Jamie had been staring blankly out the window, staring dazedly at the snow—it always snowed, ever since Jack came—and he accidentally answered, a ghosting memory flashing before his eyes, "Like freshly fallen snow."

It was at that moment that Jamie was beyond grateful that the only friends he had were long since gone, their families moving to separate places in the world. In fact, the only one he still stayed in contact with was Cupcake, he'd call her—or her him—once a week, speaking of nothing and yet everything. Nonetheless, the looks of surprise, and even nervousness, that the others gave him where forever imprinted into his mind and Jamie was certain that, if he had had any friends there, they would have left him on the spot.

Soon after that incident a small rumor had begun to spread, declaring Jamie was forcing himself on Jack. It was swiftly annihilated, however, not to long after third period of the same day. Jamie knew for certain that Jack was responsible for this—the look of indignant rage on his face was more than proof enough—but people stayed far from him regardless.

"Jamie," called his teacher—they loved to do that, bug the outcast, for somewhere in their sad little minds they believed that by doing so said outcast would open up and leave their shell—"please read the poem."

With a sigh he stood, noticing, as he's always noticed, how Jack's gaze lingers on his back.

"Life and death*" Jamie began with a cough, clearing his throat, with a deep breath, he plunged forward into the words.

"Birth is something we all go through  
But memories we have none  
Why is it that we have no thought?  
When life has just begun

From then on in we start to grow  
We blossom every way  
Our childhood flashes past so quick  
Every single day

We grow up fast we fight the world  
We struggle through every year  
We want to better everyone  
We must out do our peers

As age comes fast to everyone  
We look back and reflect  
We wonder why we fought so hard  
When no one gives a heck

And now I sit and see my past  
I look at what I've done  
I have cried some tears and had some pain  
But mostly I've had fun

So what's to come what is ahead?  
When death creeps ever near  
Maybe we will start again  
And cry those baby tears."

**A/N: Hello everyone! After receiving a great many requests to continue "To die in your arms" I've decided to give it a shot, tell me what you think. If I get at least three reviews I promise I'll continue. **

***Life and death by jack frost, found on poemhunter. **


	2. To speak again

**Disclaimer: I own naughta**

**Chapter two: To speak again**

"I'm happy in the morning  
I'm happy in the night  
I'm happy when I'm talking  
to a person full of shite

The thing is when your happy  
you last most every day  
and even when the things go wrong  
most things go your way

So happy is a good thing  
happy makes you smile  
being happy everyday  
makes everything worthwhile

so even when you shed a tear  
even when your blue  
give a smile to everything  
to what you say and do"

-Happy by jack frost, poemhunter

0-0-0-0-0-0

Today was a little different, not too different mind you, for Jack was still receiving lunch from his horde of fangirls, and Jamie was just as ignored as ever—but, as usual, when no one was looking, Jamie could feel those iced eyes fallowing him, swallowing him up, as if today, like every other day before, would be the last one, the last one the Snow Prince (as people had begun to call him) would be able to see the lone wolf. Not that he minded, for Jamie knew without a doubt that he himself stared far more openly at Jack, at almost any point in the day. In fact, it had gotten to a point where Jamie was afraid to enter the same bathroom with the white haired beauty; for he feared he'd wind up staring there as well.

Ah, but that's getting of track, we had been talking about how today was different. There were many reasons why this could be…like how Jamie had seen Jack actually talk to a person made of sand—aptly called Sandy—during lunch today, of course, this was at the pond. And, of course, he didn't hear a word—although it looked rather heated. Not that any was being said, for the two of them had been communicating by pictures, Sandy by, well, obviously, sand, and Jack by frost and ice. Why it was Jamie found this normal was beyond him, and the feeling of nostalgia the sight provoked made him run back to class a little earlier then intended.

This had proven to be a mistake, a rather big one, and one that would send his world spiraling into chaos and probably complicate his stalking days. The better choice, and the one that another version of himself probably made in an alternate universe, would have been to skip said class, to run home.

"Today we're going to assign everyone a partner," declared the teacher, eyes scanning the room rapidly, as if deciding the pairs within her mind, noting the faults and skills of students, comparing the benefits of the mixture, "and these sets are to set out to learn about one agreed upon mythological being."

The students groaned, some whispering with their chosen partner, their friends, about how idiotic the project seemed.

"I shall be appointing the partners."

Another universal groan that Jack and Jamie once again refused to enter, both were nervous, skittish, but they did not feel the need to complain. Let be what may. The others, sadly, didn't think along their lines as people soon began to make requests, many a girl (along with some guys) inquiring if they can be partnered with the Snow Prince. There was no jealous spark to light as Jack smiled at each person, face softening into pure innocent delight, for Jamie knew, just as he knew that he probably should have run away, and that Jack actually turned blue when embarrassed (a scene yet to play in school or, sadly, out), that Jack would be his.

Yet, the feeling of dread, which should not have been there—and that he felt guilty for, after all, why go through all the trouble of stalking someone only to run away when you finally have the chance to speak to them—would not cease, and Jack appeared to be feeling the same way, if the accidental frost around his foot was any indication.

Yet his ever radiant smile stayed in place…even if, a little dampened.

"Jack and Jamie," eventually marked the teacher, writing their names in neat cursive—an art almost no one used, in fact, barely anyone bothered to write at all, preferring the ease of a keyboard.

Ignoring the glares he received from almost everyone in class Jamie raised a hand, uncertain yet strong eyes begging to be answered.

"Yes?"

"Why did you but the two of us together?"

The teacher laughed, bright pink hair—false and a source of many a ridicule—falling into her eyes. "What better paring then the great and popular Jack Frost and the Lone Wolf, Jamie?"

The title wasn't so bad when others called him that, Lone Wolf that is. But when even the teachers used it…it caused a sudden urge to ring up Cupcake and have her beat their brains in. He was never alone, never. For the wind would always tussle his hair, the snow fall in reassuring waves, and Jack…Jack had always been there. Even if Jamie didn't remember it, still had trouble believing it, he somehow knew, Jack had always, always, been there.

"Please don't use that word." whined a random girl, a cheerleader if Jamie's memory was to be trusted in any other matter besides Jack.

"What word?"

"Pairing," the girl seethed, spitting the word out like venom, other girls nodding their heads as some of the boys tapped their fingers, "it makes it sound as if we're dating the person _you_ partnered us with."

Jack's laughter came just in time for the bell.

This was their last class, so everyone jumped out of their seats in delight, words pouring from their mouths and forming fountains of noise as they quickly forgot everything they had just heard.

Yet Jamie stayed back, not because he wanted to talk with Jack, no, he wanted to run and hide in a corner, how would the boy react, should he know that Jamie had been stalking him since his arrival? That Jamie knew he was not human?

No, Jamie stayed because of the smile, sad, joyful, nostalgic, that glowed in his beloved's face; his wondrous lips silently begging him to wait.

"Jamie," a soft voice called, making him turn around, "what mythological being do you wish to study?"

No one but Jamie could notice the slight quivering in those magnificent eyes; tears threatening to spill even as a smile, ever strong, ever playful, graced Jack's face.

Without a single thought, without a care, Jamie replied, "Jack Frost."

O-O-O-O-O

**A/N: Hello everyone, and thanks for reviewing! To Sleepy Dreams of Wonder, as you can see, this is mostly in Jamie's pov, but if I get enough requests I might consider doing a chapter or two in Jacks. To everyone in general, I've decided to keep with the quota of three reviews per chapter. After this requirement is meet I'll turn on my muse (Rise of the Guardians the game), and begin typing away, and I'll post the next day. **


	3. To dance again

**Disclaimer: I own Naughta**

**Chapter three: To Dance again**

"Don't tell my son that I died in vain.  
Don't tell my folks that they should feel shame.  
Don't tell my wife I was an evil man.  
Don't tell my town that I should have ran.  
Just sit in shame as you spin your web  
Of rights and wrongs that come out of your head.  
Talk, debate for all I care but I can tell you this you were not there."

-Soldiers by jack frost, poemhunter

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It was bound to happen sometime, after all, Jamie was never people's favorite, and although students at his school would never dare lay a finger on him (for Jack had made it more than obvious that he cared little for those who'd stoop so low), all those outside could and would.

Once again, the only things holding them back was the presence of one snowy beauty, but he'd been absent—two day's in a row. A fact that sent Jamie into a spiral of worry and distress (which was probably why he walked into such an obvious trap in the first place), and made him regret never stalking the boy home (but he had been afraid, just like with the bathroom, that upon finding this answer, he'd start staring at Jack while he slept, then maybe finding a way to watch him while he bathed—that lithe body covered in water that, upon a single touch, froze upon soft skin, glistening as the light above caught on their frozen forms, lips open in a silent song, eyes closed, hair pasted to that all too beautiful face, causing some water to freeze in trails around his neck, dipping into his collar bone and further down his chest, his whole body a cast in light...and if he didn't stop thinking about this soon Jamie was certain to have a problem on his hands).

With a shake of his head, brown hair messy and covered in dirt and blood, Jamie brought his thoughts back to the situation at hand.

He was being bullied.

And not just by any bullies, but the town gang.

…did that mean he was simply being attacked?

Nonetheless, he had been targeted, set up, trapped, and all because he'd been partnered up with the most beautiful person in town. Of course, this wouldn't have happened to anyone else, but because it was _him_ they were talking about, the boy who ran into the snow with far too much glee, the one who ignored everyone and everything since the age of thirteen (Cupcake, the last of his friends to move, had left to Kansas the day of his birthday), and the one who never went to parties, never smoked, or drank, who was far too…_clean_…far too…_good_...for anyone's liking, it was okay. It was alright. And no one would stop them. Not even his classmates, for although Jack's influence kept them from harming him, it didn't mean they'd help. No, they'd never help, not him.

He didn't regret it though, being partnered with Jack, he was simply worried; worried that what he had said last was the wrong answer.

Had he been too straightforward? Had he given away the fact that he knew who Jack was? Did the Snow Prince like him no longer?

"Come out, come out, wherever you are," snarled one of Jamie's attackers, their shadow playing across the wall before him, "I know you're here."

No you don't, Jamie inwardly snapped, for all you know you could be talking to thin air, and you will be, in a moment.

Taking a deep breath, counting to twenty, Jamie ran, out from behind the dumpster he sped, bare feet (for he had taken off his shoes to reduce the noise he made) pounding across the pavement as he turned a corner, speeding past pedestrians, and yelling apologies as he bumped into one person after another.

The shouts that flowed into the air as he swiftly slid into another hiding place, quickly placing his shoes back on before he got frostbite (not that he would have minded if it had been Jack doing the bitting…), told him he had little time to spar.

Once the final note was tied, he ran for the pond, Jack's pond…their pond…no, they had a lake somewhere…

Alas, the road in which he ran had long since been coated with ice, and his assailants had caught up far quicker than he had expected.

With shouts of anger they ran after him, heavy boots thudding and knives glinting, chains at the ready, waiting to be used to capture their pray.

But the wind appeared to not be on their side, for as soon as their feet touched the icy road it picked up, sending them tumbling and spiraling, their chains—which they had flung—landing so far off target one could laugh.

And Jamie did, he laughed in pure delight as the wind played with his hair, the snow and ice seeming to swirl around him, sheltering him from harm as he playfully danced with the wind as it lead him across the road and down toward the pond; down toward Jack.

When the snow and ice finally cleared, the angry shouts long since gone from memory, and the wind calmed, Jamie noticed a glint of light brown, a staff he soon recognized, gracefully twirling in the air as its owner, the Snow Prince and Jamie's destined (for he would forever claim so, even when those startling flashes of memory sent his mind to chaos and made him question his sanity, his reality), moved in gentle swoops and maneuvers that almost brought Jamie to tears from the sheer beauty.

"Jamie," called the Spirit of Winter, eyes like iced underground caverns sparkling with an inner light, peering deep into his soul, "do you want to go to the library latter, to study?"

Once again, without thought, without a care, Jamie answered, "But Jack Frost is right here, isn't it better to ask the real thing than study some book?"

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

**A/N: Thank you all so very, very much! You definitely passed the quota (can you pass it again?). To Soaha…I just realized you've been following both of my stories…*cough* anyway, the mystery of how everyone is able to see Jack is one that will be answered latter on…even I look forward to it…cause I'm just letting the pair write it out for themselves. **


	4. To believe again

**Dislaimer: I own naughta**

**Chapter four: To believe again**

"Nightmares can be funny things  
They keep you up at night  
And if you doze off in between  
It gives you such a fright

Nightmares happen anytime  
If you're young or old  
They catch you often unawares  
Your body goes all cold

Nightmares come to all my kids  
They cry out in the night  
They then sleep sound in mummy's bed  
And Daddy's got no rights

So when tonight you fall asleep  
And monsters come to visit  
There's nothing nasty in your home  
Its nightmares surly…..is…It?"

-NIGHTMARES by jack frost, poemhunter

0-0-0-0-0-0

Recap: Once again, without thought, without a care, Jamie answered, "But Jack Frost is right here, isn't it better to ask the real thing than study some book?"

"You…" Jack paused, eyes of crystalline ice peering deep into Jamie's soul, leaving him feeling bare. Those eyes, magnificent, ancient, sad, hopeful, searched Jamie's face for something, desperately tracing his features as if they held the answer, but the slight joy in those upturned pale lips (almost blue in color), constricted Jamie's heart, for he knew, as the joy slid from Jack's face, as those eyes, tinted in hope, slowly faded out, like the lights in an underwater cave slowly dispersing, hiding, hoping beyond hope that no one noticed, that he had not found what it is he sought.

The fake grin that was quickly thrown up made Jamie want to hurl.

"So how'd you figure it out?"

He wanted to answer tactfully, he truly did, but the sight before him, sickening, sad, lonely (all because of him, Jamie knew, for he was missing something important, precious…), destroyed the filter of his brain and let loose his tongue…anything, anything was fine, any reaction, be it sneer, rejection, or disbelief (oh, Jack would never do such things, and it was impossible to imagine, but the option was still there), anything, anything…so long as it wasn't this…this terrible, horrible, fake expression.

"I've been stalking you."

The laughter was wholly unexpected, but appreciated, the sight even more so; as Jack threw back his head, hair falling away from his face, revealing the pale skin of his neck, lips open as the laughter continued to flow out into the wind. "I've followed you since you moved in." Jamie continued, encouraged by the smile (a true smile), "and it was kind of obvious when you accidentally froze all the windows of the school when you were talking with those rumor mongers."

Which was true enough, expect the fact that everyone had seemed to forget about the incident, and, if Jamie was reading Jack's reaction correctly, he was supposed to forget it as well. But the confusion (along with some deep hidden…something) vanished quickly from Jack's face.

"We need to get you to the library." The Snow Prince whispered, staff clenched in his right hand, white knuckles turning whiter as he looked off in the direction Jamie came, "and quickly."

Jamie knew better then to ask, the shouts, the gang, had followed—the wind could not keep them at bay, for, if the sound was any indication, the gang had acquired a truck. And in these busy days, to blow them off course, even slightly, would have sent them crashing into someone.

The snow, however, worked on slowing them down, deepening, icing over, but only slightly, for the very same fear as the wind. Even after all these years, Jack Frost was still the same, he could never actively cause the death of the innocent (though his storms sometimes took more innocent's then these mere gang members, at least those people had a chance…no matter how slight).

"Come on," Jack spoke, suddenly standing directly before him, hand outstretched, "I can get us out of here."

"They might see us if you fly."

"Not if the snow covers our tracks."

"They'll come back later."

"You're hurt, and we need to go to the library to take some notes."

"They'll only hurt me again."

"Not if I'm around."

"But you won't always be."

The current situation proved that, and with a sigh Jack deflated, head hung low for approximately a half a second _(you could never keep him in one place longer then a second, Jamie would declare to any who would listen to his fanciful tales)_ before it shot up again, a grin (a true grin) danced across his face. "I'll take you home."

"Home?"

"When you get there, take care of your wounds and pick out any outfit of your choice for tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?"

"Yup," the Winter Sprit said, the wind somehow, and without his noticing, blocking out all other sounds, "you want to interview _the_ Jack Frost, right?"

He really shouldn't have agreed, he shouldn't have forgotten, about that little talk they'd just had, but Jack's grin sent an overabundance of joy into his heart, and the memories (_they'd wind up in Jamie's house, laughing and tumbling, touching and kissing)_, emotions from past events he no longer knew, clouded his mind.

And so he made his second mistake, he took Jack Frost's hand, and then let go.

0-0-0-0-0-0

Three hours after the drop off, and several thousand questions from his parents latter, Jamie sat in his bed, legs swinging back and forth (_But he'd always return by day, sitting on the window sill, swinging his left leg back and forth)_ as he glanced over his choices carefully, trying to visualize Jack's reaction to any of his outfits. In the end, the exact same reaction came to mind. Indifference, happiness, for to Jack it didn't matter what it was Jamie wore, so long as he was there.

With a sigh, a pout, Jamie choose one at random and placed the others away before going to bed. His eyes falling shut almost immediately—for he had been far more tired than he had previously thought.

Alas, his dreams where almost as hectic as his day.

Nay, they weren't really dreams but, say, nightmares.

_Swallowing down his fear, Jamie proceeded forward, "Jack" he called again, hand outstretched towards his love, his heart, his soul, "Jack, what is it? What's wrong?"_

_Another step forward, now long out of reach from the shore, but within arm's length of Jack, "Jack" Jamie pleaded, eyes now shimmering with unshed tears, "answer me." _

_He received no reply, the ice cracking and crumbling to dust, blood dripping down his lovers fingers, head bowed in defeat, staff split in two, "Jack!" Jamie cried, attempting to run forward, only to find his feet literally held in place, dark slithering shadows, golden eyes flickering in and out of its form, clasping and clawing at his legs, slowly pulling him further and further away, "Jack! Jack!"_

He did not wake up.

So he never noticed how the shadows that had crawled closer to his form along the walls vanished as Jack, coated in blood, smile calm, serene, floated through his window. Snowflakes quickly dancing about his room as the Guardian, or, shall we say, ex-guardian, sat upon the window sill, left leg swinging back and forth as he sang a song that only he could understand.

No, Jamie never woke up, but his nightmares did vanish, never to be remembered in the morning.

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**A/N: Ah, finally, I've been waiting to type this chapter all day, and it took till around 10p.m. before the last required review came in. Yeah, just to make things clear, it's three reviews per chapter, even if you go over the quota for one, that doesn't mean I'll be posting two chapters in one day…that's just plain ridiculous. However, going over the quota will help steer the mind and possibly lengthen chapters. Nonetheless, to Mostly Ghostly, yes Jamie and Jack will be getting back together. **

**I'd also like to point out that this chapter is riddled with references to "To die in your arms", I'm thinking of keeping this theme up, what do you lot think?**


	5. To love again

**Disclaimer: I own naughta**

**Chapter five: To love again**

"I love my mum, I love my dad  
I love my son and brother,  
I love my wife, I love my dog  
I love them like no other.

I love my friends, I love my cat  
I love the car I'm driving.  
I love my house, I love my job  
Even when I'm skiving.

The point I make that love is vast  
But best if you're receiving  
But no one really knows if love  
Is something worth believing?"

-Love by jack frost, poemhunter

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

The library could have been described as beautiful, as it always was, with its clock tower, spiraling staircases, smooth statues of angels and dragons, and exotic carvings of vines twisting and turning about its exterior, some swerving around the carved figure of a child, others tangling in the limbs of a sleeping couple, and some even dividing, sprouting into the most wondrous of flowers, pixies, fairies, butterflies, all dancing, laughing, lightly touching on leaves, or kissing petals. Yes, the library was always beautiful, but today, oh, today, today it was majestic, otherworldly-a palace.

For today it was covered in the most enticing frost, the patterns meshing with the buildings own and giving color to the all too grey walls. The sun caught the frost at just the right angle, setting the library ablaze in light, and the road, bathed in the calmest snow, looked like a path meant only for the gods to walk, and it felt almost like a sin to so much as dare lay one foot on it.

Yes, the library, on that day, looked like a castle, or, more specifically, a winter castle.

It really wouldn't surprise him, Jamie thought as he stared into the stained windows that shimmered like children's eyes, full of delight, if everyone who entered would be at Jack's beck and call, for, surely, in a winter castle, it would only be right for the Snow Prince to rule.

"Are you going to enter?" chuckled Jack as he came from behind (oh, Jack's voice, his laugh, Jamie would know it anywhere, even in a crowd of strangers, even if the world had been muted). "Or are you going to pass up the chance to interview me in order to gap at my home?"

His home? Jamie laughed, in wonder, understanding, and slight disappointment (for he could never sneak in there), and proceeded to step forward onto the gods path. For, surely, all was well, it should be alright, to damage this exquisite art, so long as the god who ruled over this land gave him permission.

And so he entered that exquisite winter palace. The king, the prince, by his side, and Jamie wished at that moment, when the doors swung open, that he could forever stay within his beloved's kingdom of snow.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

"Why were they after you?" Jack asked from his perch atop him staff (apparently no one inside the library noticed, or, perhaps, they simply didn't care).

"Who?" Jamie replied, playing ignorant as he looked over all the notes he had so far.

Jack Frost, the Spirit of winter, has one certain task, and that is to bring about the cold and all related subjects (ice, snow), however, he still has to obey the will of the world, for example, he can't just go over to Texas and make it snow. One may think of him as a cold front, traveling via northern winds. It is known that rumors of his existence began long before humans where able to explain away the weather, however, in those days, the people wound up with far clearer predictions in the weather. This, I believe, is due to the people's idea that all elements were controlled by certain personas, this belief brought about Jack Frost and his mischievous, yet cruel personality…

Why had he put that there, Jamie wondered, for he had never known Jack to be cruel. Sure, his storms killed people, and, yes, he could get rather emotional (thus freezing anything in the area), but he was never, ever cruel…was he?

"Jamie," Jack called, face inches from Jamie's own, "are you alright?"

"Y..yea," he replied, gulping and trying (yet failing) to hide the blush that slowly made its way up his cheeks.

"You don't look it." Was the worried reply as Jack, with a loving touch _(His parents could never understand the anxiousness that would come over him whenever winter came near), _placed the palm of his frozen hand against Jamie's forehead. After confirming that the other was not ill, Jack jumped back onto his perch, "you still haven't answered my question."

_(But they noticed, just as everyone else before them, that he loved winter, and so they began to joke, whenever it would come near, "You're wife is back.") _"Yes love." Flew from his lips, leaving them both shell shocked before Jamie quickly tried to cover it up, "I'm different, humans hate different."

Jack, thank the gods, decided to play along, "I'm different," he declared, a bird of snow forming in his hands, not caring if others noticed, or perhaps he knew, as he should—for this was his kingdom, that they simply couldn't, or wouldn't. He was their ruler, inside these halls, and none would dare notice anything he did not wish them too. "And yet no one hates me."

Jamie would have argued otherwise, but memories stayed his mouth _(oh those crystalline tears, that fell gracefully down Jacks cheeks as he fought to keep a broken smile on his face, froze Jamie's world). _"Jack," he said instead, "I'm not like you, I'm not magical, or powerful, I'm not even very smart, the only thing I have going for me is my open mind."

The frown told him how little his answer was liked, but that was all he was willing to give…for now, the rest could wait, wait until the day in which…the day in which he could finally say it, say that he was in love.

Yes, the rest could wait until the day he could finally take those chilly hands in his and declare his love.

Jack's expression told him that his mind was an open book, and his eyes, ever sinfully beautiful, begged to know why it was he'd wait, 'why wait?' those sad eyes called, 'why wait when I have already waited so long?'

But Jack respected his silence, and for that Jamie was eternally grateful, for he had no answer.

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**A/N: Due to popular vote, I'll keep the references. As for the angst…maybe I should add angst next to mystery? Allot of things have happened to Jack since Jamie's death; Jamie will slowly figure this out as he regains his memories. Also, VenezuelaYaoiLuvr, I apologize, Jamie did not die, and (spoiler alert) he will not die again. Ah, now that just adds another question to your list doesn't it? *laughs* just be patient, all will be answered in due time. Just remember the magic number. **


	6. To cry again

**Disclaimer: I own naughta**

**Chapter six: To cry again**

"If I could go and speak to god  
I would tell him many things  
Save the world. stop all hurt  
Happiness can you bring

I would talk about so many things  
To make the world just right  
Peace and love no hate no pain  
I could end the famine fight

But now that you are gravely ill  
I would mention one more thing  
Please be kind to my poor child  
Make them well again.

I want to save all in the world  
I want to make it right  
But when I hear my child cry out  
I only have one fight

So please dear lord do all you can  
To make it right for others  
But spare a thought for my poor child  
I say this as their mother.

So when You look around your garden  
And see an empty place.  
don't look down upon the earth,  
And see their tired face.

Don't take them far away from me  
Don't pluck them from our home  
Make them well and leave them here  
Leave them well alone

That's all I have to say to you  
A selfish as it sounds  
Don't leave my prayer unanswered  
On cold and stony ground."

-mothers prayer by jack frost, poemhunter

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Jamie had always been his mother's favorite, always her smiling angel, her innocent little knight. Maybe that's why she went through so much trouble preserving his innocence, keeping that childish wonder alive in his all too sweet and caring heart.

Every night, since the very day her precise little Jamie was born, she'd tell him stories of fairytales, of myths and legends, oh, how she lived just for those sparkling eyes, those tiny fists wrapped in the fabric of her shirt as her precious son begged to know more.

His father, on the other hand, did not approve. If Jamie where to so much as mention Santa Claus as he danced around his feet the poor boy would receive a quick scolding.

"Shh, it's alright," she remembers whispering to her crying boy one night, holding her trebling child in her arms as she soothingly rocked back and forth, "daddy…daddy isn't like us you see."

Ah, that questioning look, those innocent brown orbs, how could anyone stand making such a beautiful child cry?

"Daddy doesn't believe anymore."

"He…he doesn't?" her sweet child had hiccupped, little fists rubbing at his eyes.

"No, you see, his parent's where cruel ogres."

"Ogres!" Jamie gasped, eyes widening in horror.

"Yes," she had smiled, laughing softly as she sat her son on his bed, "nasty, horrendous ogres, and they didn't want daddy to know of the true beauty of the world. They feared that if he did…he'd run away."

That, of course, had been years ago. Long before the birth of their second (and her husband's favorite) Sophie. Or was it really that long at all? The time between her husband's flickering presence to the time of his non-existence. Oh, he was still alive. Still kicking others in the face and earning far more then he should. But he never visited, never entered the house. Oh, he gave them plenty. Paid for the house and bills, the essentials, the food, and even gave the two a hefty allowance, but ever since that day, the day in which she had begun to fear the winter, he had never returned home.

Sophie's death had affected everyone.

Yes, on a snowy winter's day, her beautiful and ever happy children had left home to play. She hadn't known about the bulling, about how others teased the two for still believing, hadn't known about all the fights Jamie had gotten into, protecting his precious little sister. She hadn't known. Shehand'tknownshehadn'tknowshehadn't…

No one really knew what happened after the two had gone out, beaming smiles leaving her heart aflutter. No one knew how it was Sophie fell, no one knew, no one knew, but they suspected. Oh, how they suspected, eyes flinching from her person as she walked, weeping to her daughters funeral. But the hatred in their eyes was far more piercing.

They _could never understand why he'd run out of classes, right into the center of a snow storm, with such a love filled smile, with such bright eyes and such a joyful laugh. _But _they noticed, just as everyone else before them, that he loved winter. _And everyone knew, from the way the wind played with his hair, the snow shimmered at his feet, and the ice playfully bent to his wishes, that the winter loved him as well.

Yes, the winter, the cold horrid winter. The winter that sleeked over the roof, made the railings far too slippery, made it impossible to catch Sophie in time as she fell, plummeting to her death as those nastydispicablemonsters laughed above her, Jamie crying as blood ran freely down his body, littered in bruises and cuts. But no one would admit it, no one would believe it, they're just kids, and so they didn't know, really, what happened, of course they didn't know, of course they didn't notice as her daughters little body feel from the sky, of course they didn't notice the sickening sound of her skull splitting open, of course, ofcourseofcourse.

No, the only thing anyone, _**anyone**_, was willing to admit to, was the sight of the snow swirling lightly around Jamie's form as he cradled his sisters body in his arms; tears streaming down his face.

The ambulance never made it in time, oh, but her husband did, yes, her husband made it in time enough to see the blood soaked snow, he made it in time, in time enough to quickly run away from the sight, to hide and cry in the shadows as she took her lovely, lonely son and hugged him close. His arms (still so little, so frail, so weak) clinging to his sister's frame.

The next day, no one knew how, the culprits where dead. Every last one of them, she had noted in glee, torn to shreds, rooms wrecked, skulls crushed, ah, but people had noticed how Jamie loved the winter, and they noticed how the winter loved him.

The ever frightening winter that reminded her of her daughter's death, little Sophie's body laying broken in ever soft snow, as if it had attempted to catch her, but failed miserably, the snowflakes falling like tears around the three (Jamie, herself, and sweet, dead Sophie).

That winter, with its frightening power, had obtained its revenge, but something about this winter, this frightening winter that clung to her son's small frame, seemed different from the usual winter he and Sophie would play with.

It was dark, demonic, and she grew to fear it, this winter.

And so too, did everyone else. And they knew, just as she did, that Jamie was its source, but they would not admit it, could not, no, for to admit it would be to admit to its birth, the death of one lone girl…

So when winter drew close once more (still in the same town, for her husband would not allow them to move), she grew scared, oh, how she feared it. The memories, the stares, the glares—usually directed at her precious, precious son.

But this year a soothing winter came, this year, a wondrous, beautiful, winter came. The snow no longer grey, but shimmering white, the flakes no longer tears but declarations of joy, and, oh, the smile that lighted her son's face. Yes, the true, true winter had returned, all in the form on one strange boy, she could see his reflection in her sons' eyes, even though she'd never seen him before. Yet, something was still off, the winter, although as pure as it was before her daughter's death, seemed different, darker, from a time so long ago, so lost. She could see this in her sons' eyes as well, see the love, yet doubt, the joy, yet fear.

Yes, the winter, although now fully here, now fully by her precious sons' side…although she had little reason to fear this new form, she still did.

Turning on the TV, she flipped through several security camera's that she'd set (yes, she made sure to watch now, to forever keep track, but she was still powerless, so all she could do, all she could hope to do, was have bandages ready, and a nice warm dinner, welcoming her precious little knight back home), and landed on the news.

She made sure to turn it off as soon as Jamie returned home, his eyes sparkling and smile radiant as he babbled on about his time in the winter's presence…

He called the winter 'Jack' and gushed over how beautiful and majestic he looked in the snowy palace he had made.

She wouldn't dare interrupt him, couldn't, and so she smiled, played along as she prepared the food, she knew the winter was not the same, not as it should be, and she knew her son knew as well.

But that did not mean she was going to ruin his illusion, destroy the shimmering hope in his eyes, nay, she would not tell him, and never would (and she'd silence all those that dared—she could do that much), that in a forest, not too far from his favorite pond (though he'd always mention a lake as well, eyes glassing over in strained memory), laid the bloody remains of a certain gang.

The winter, she mused, had killed again.

And she was scared.

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**A/N: Wow, thanks for the reviews you guys, I was afraid the "angstyness" would drive you lot away. However, due to Sleepy Dreams of Wonder (yes, I'm blaming you), I've changed the genre to Mystery/Angst…surprise, surprise. I'm not sure how good this chapter is though, so please tell me what you think. After all, one of the things people liked about "To die in your arms" was the perspective of others on their relationship; I figured I'd go in more detail here. This should also answer some of your questions. Please, please, tell me what you thought of this, and if I should do more like this (although, few) or should this be the last one? And, as always, remember the magic number. **


	7. To see again

**Disclaimer: I own naughta**

**Chapter seven: To see again**

"My boyfriend went and dumped me  
The rat-face that he is  
No ifs or buts no long goodbye  
Just left me in a tizz

Oh I know the sort of thing he'll say  
The rubbish we all hear  
"It isn't you that caused the split  
It's me please have no fear"

Of course he wont say what he means  
The actual reason why!  
He thinks by talking out his bum  
He won't cause me to cry

But cry I will most every day  
Because that's what we all do  
It's not as if the rat was cool  
Friends he had but few

I cry because he broke my heart  
And that takes time to heal  
I won't miss him forever though  
The wound will slowly seal

And when it does off I'll go  
And find another man  
A man that treats me with respect  
And loves me all he can

So just for now I'll take it slow  
And let my confidence rise  
I have to think that men are rats  
Until proved otherwise.

And the main thing to remember here  
And never wax and wane  
Once your heart is broken  
It will never be the same

But just look out and watch me close  
Cause I'm now a different girl  
I will never date a swine again  
Cause I'm a shining pearl"

-Dumped jack frost, poemhunter

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Two day's had passed since the first "date", as Jamie had secretly begun to call them, and all appeared well. Despite this, this slight peace that enveloped the town, he knew he couldn't hide from the truth for long…but he didn't want to face it. Face the fact that all those who'd tried to beat him suddenly vanished, face the fact that everyone seemed so, so sad, and those eyes, the eyes of his precious frost, they appeared so…wrong? No, that wasn't right, it wasn't Jack's eyes that where wrong…it was the thing peering out from them, deep in the center.

What could it possibly be, this demon that had squirmed its way into Jack's heart, or maybe, it was a reflection of Jamie's own heart? Perhaps both?

_Nonetheless, Jamie was bound and determined to make the most of the day._

"Cupcake," he whispered into the phone, "Cupcake, can you get ready in say," he looked at the clock, "five hours?"

"Five hours?" the girl, his best friend, sobbed.

"Yeah," he sighed softly, "I'll ask my mom to pick you up."

"If…if she says no?"

Jamie couldn't help but laugh, his mother, say no to such a simple request? "She'll defiantly say yes. Oh, and Cupcake?"

"…?"

"You should also pack a barf bag."

"Why?"

Ah, there was the girl he remembered, demanding and bossy.

"Just do it," he laughed before hanging up, smiling as she screamed for him to wait.

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Jack, who'd usually _be off by night, out delivering winter to other portions of the world_, for some reason decided to also stay at Jamie's house. His eyes widening as Cupcakes name passed through Jamie's lips. A sparkle of hope and happiness shimmered in his majestic eyes, though dampened by a thin cloud of resignation.

He would have asked why, would have asked if Jack had known her in some way, but the sound of a car pulling up silenced him, and the look on Jack's face as he fled to Jamie's room before his mother walked into the room almost made him laugh, was the Snow Prince really this shy?

"Jamie," called Mrs. Bennett as she lugged in a suitcase with far more ease then expected (maybe it had something to do with all the maces she left around the house?). "A little help please."

Laughing, joy swelling up as a grand feeling of nostalgia ran through his system, having Cupcake and Jack so near causing ripples of memory to flash before his eyes of snow and laughter, shadows and sledding, and, strangely enough, a couch…"Coming mom!"

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Usually, it wouldn't have taken till twelve at night to have all of Cupcakes things set in the quest room; then again, it was also usually the movers that his father hired that did this sort of thing. And it didn't help that an awkward silence had fallen upon the group when Jack had tried to calmly walk down the stairs—but the way his hands fidgeted with his staff gave him away.

The looks on everyone's faces would have made Jamie's day if they had simply encompassed surprise or awe. But his mother's eyes, though she tried to hide it, where filled with an animalistic fear, and Cupcakes face was a mixture of surprise, her eyes shimmering as if they'd finally seen a long lost friend, and yet her eyes also held pity, until they slowly slide, as if following some sort of invisible line, over to Jamie, her eyes widening with fear enough for ten as he caught the reflection of a dark shadow clinging to his form before it vanished.

Jack, being Jack (_The usually energetic and bouncy spirit)_, made a fantastic display of himself, suddenly jumping into the air, twisting and flipping, before he landed with one foot on a random chair in the room. Alas, it was the broken one, and he wound up falling. The laughter dispersed what was left of the shadow that clung like a deep seated depression. And Jack made sure to help, always doing something ridiculous (like balance a suitcase on his head) whenever the atmosphere would dampen.

In the end, they three of them, his mother, Cupcake, and himself, wound up rolling on the floor far more often than they actually moved things.

And when they were finished, his mother and Cupcake chatting away with Jack, their initial fears completely forgotten, Jamie couldn't help but feel accomplished…if a little jealous.

Ah, the feeling, a sudden spark behind his eyes, caused Cupcake to stiffen, and his mother to suddenly propose dinner (something they had forgotten long ago).

Jack, however, simply smiled, a kind, sad smile, his eyes glancing over and looking directly over his shoulder, something the Winter Spirit did often, but he'd never noticed before.

"Jamie," he called, once again somehow in front of him in a mere matter of seconds, "didn't you call Cupcake over to talk about something?"

Something? Ah, yes, Cupcake was crying because….because her boyfriend had lied to her…

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It wasn't much of a surprise that Jack could throw the two with ease into Jamie's room, and it wasn't all that surprising when he iced them in, it was surprising, however, how warm the room was, despite the fact that it had just housed the Winter Spirit.

"So," Jamie began with a cough, sitting on his bed, staring directly into his friend's eyes, which didn't flinch with fear this time, as she sat on the fuzzy carpet, "why did you date this idiot in the first place?"

Normally, a girl would have slapped him, but he'd been friends with Cupcake long enough to know that being straightforward was always best; otherwise she'd get annoyed, and really would punch your face in.

"He called me pretty," was her honest reply, shame evident in her eyes, "he was the only one, besides my mother, who'd ever said that to me."

Taking a deep breath, she continued, tears spilling down her face, Jack's presence no longer there to damped her pain, "I…I had trusted him, I had acc…accepted his request to…to…date," she snarled, "in the end…I invited him…o…over. He stole my ice sculpture!"

Ah, the strange piece of artwork that they'd found as kids, laying harmlessly in the snow, it's form shimmering, begging for Cupcake to pick it up, it had been on the day Cupcake's father had died, the student's joking that he'd got into the accident because he'd been distracted by her ugly face. She'd almost killed someone that day, but the sculpture, beautiful, innocent, had caught the sun's rays at just the right moment, before her fist came down. It had called her, Jamie had heard it, the voice of the wind as it tugged and pulled at their forms, take it, the winter had called, and she did.

"When I found out," she continued, "I beat his snobby little face in!"

The sinister smile that graced her lips would have disturbed him, should have, but he only found pleasure in knowing the idiot had got his just disserts.

"But", she sniffed, "he had only done it on a dare! People where daring him to steal my precious sculpture! They dared him to date me!"

Without a thought, without a care, Jamie drew his sobbing friend into a hug, letting her weep into his chest as he petted her messy, oily hair. "It's alright," he whispered into her ear, the room's lights flickering slightly as the shadows once again crawled along the walls of his room, eyes tinted slightly red, "you can stay here, they'll never hurt you again."

Although Jamie's hug was warm, although his voice soft and comforting, Cupcake felt a chill, the winter, the wrong winter, the horrid demonic one, it was here.

And she was scared.

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**A/N: I both loved writing this chapter, and loathed it, I can't help but feel as if it's crappy, but I can't find anything I'd change. Anyway, thank you all for making it through the last chapter *laughs* none of you answered my question, but that just means I'll take that option in my own hands now. Also, the amount of jack frost poems is running low, so I might have to switch to someone else. Beyond that, as always, remember the magic number.**


	8. To live again

**Disclaimer: I own naughta**

**Chapter eight: To live again**

"The everlasting loneliness  
The pain, endless  
The scars that I kiss  
The marks of my grief  
The sorrow that cries  
My silenced screams  
When my winter comes  
I'm, again, at home  
Everything freezes  
Everything withers  
Everything dies  
A beautiful shroud  
Snowflakes  
Ash falling down  
The remains of my past  
Put to dust  
Burnt to ash"

-Winterborn by Gustavo Lucas Luna, poemhunter

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Winter has been around a very, very long time, even before Jack Frost, and even before the man who calls himself Old winter. Oh, he went by many names, so very, very many, but why keep tally over the names some mere insignificant mortals gave him?

Who was before Old winter? Even he doesn't know, or perhaps he did, but he's forgotten. Or, perhaps, that person has done exactly as he has, and that is to ask to be released. Released from the immortality that plagues him, released from the burden of watching such beautiful humans die from his touch, shiver at his presence, run from his sight. Oh, how he had wanted to be free, to simply end it all. And so he had begged, begged the Man in the Moon for someone else, anyone else, to take his place, so long as he may rest.

MiM had not answered, hadn't even shown a glimmer of hearing, and so Old winter had gone on a rampage. When was this? He doesn't remember. Where was this? Why bother recalling? In the end, it was all encased in white, white snow and clear, sharp ice.

But his rampage had not been taken lightly, and the other spirits, infuriated with his act, sealed him away at the bottom of a lake. Oh, winter still came, as it always did, but it was not Old winter who did it, but his little ice reindeer. Those very same reindeer who acted upon his grief, summoning sad snow upon times of calm depression, blizzards upon heated rage, and murdering those that dared harm the humans he had taken to watching.

One said human had, ironically, been a child with the last name Frost. Old winter didn't know what it was that drew him to this boy, but perhaps it was the same thing that lead the winter before him to choose him (for the previous Winter Spirit had indeed been the one to choose in the end, not MiM)—the innocent smile, the joyous laughter, the childish behavior, and ingenious pranks. But Old winter made no move to claim the boy, not yet, he was far too young, wait till he's at least thirty, he told his reindeer, wait until he has experienced enough of this world—for he cannot go back.

Soon after the celebration of young Jack Frost's sister's birthday (near the end of winter), Old winter's favorite child offered to take his sister skating. Upon receiving the news (and knowing the child would go nowhere else but his lake), Old winter had beseeched the spirits of spring to hold off for just awhile longer. He had never begged before, and never would again, but for this one boy, he would, he'd do anything, so long as the boy remained happy and safe.

The spirits of spring had agreed.

But the spirits of spring and Old winter had never gotten along. And in his joy to host for not only his favorite child but his sister, his beloved sister, Old winter forgot this.

The feel of his ice cracking, the helpless cry from the girl, the false smile that was forced onto his favorite child's face, all of this made his blood freeze, his skin crawl, and his eyes light up in hate. How dare they! How dare they go back against their word!

The reindeer, feeling such rage, slaughtered a great many small spring spirits that day, and even killed a few hapless villagers. But that didn't stop Jack, his favorite, favorite child, from falling into his cold, cold lake.

The sight of those eyes, so full of life, clouding over in death, almost made him snap. But the smile, oh, the satisfied smile of the boy as he slowly feel to the bottom—how could he smile? He was dying! Was he so pure, so loving, that in his last moments he could only think of how his sister still lived?!—pushed him to the edge.

He dared to fight off death.

For the Reaper had indeed came for the boy, black cloak swaying in the water in a most enticing and horrifying manner. But Old winter would have none of that, this was his lake!

And so the two fought, the boy's body floating, suspended just beneath the water's surface.

It was then that MiM chose to act, to grant Old winter his wish, to stop the fight that tossed ice, like spears, out onto the lakes edge, unknowingly, unwittingly, injuring some of the boy's family as they grieved.

But even MiM makes mistakes, and this was one of them.

For Old winter had grown too attached to the child, his favorite, favorite child, _his _Jack Frost.

"_Can you do it Jack? Let go of the very person you love the most, and watch silently as they continue life…as if you never existed?"_

Jack Frost may have, in the future, said yes, declared with all the strength of his frozen heart that so long as _his love, his heart, his soul _was safe, then nothing else mattered. But Old winter could not.

Jack's smile, his laugh, his innocence, all of it, _all of it_, was his, his to destroy and bend, to shelter and protect.

And so, before Reaper could even move, before MiM could register what was happening, Old winter fused himself with the boy. Although, it would be more accurate to say he fused only a part, a desperate, obsessed, rage filled part, for all else had already succumbed to MiM's gentle ray's.

Perhaps this is why MiM had kept the other Guardian's from being too interested in Jack Frost's birth, made sure they were busy, for even with the quick sealing done by Reaper and himself, he could not, would not, be certain for three hundred years, that Old winter would not surface and take over the child.

But one death changed all that, one death, one kill, and the ever echoing cry of Old winter's favorite, favorite child, woke him from his slumber.

Ah, he whispered to no one, yet everyone, who is the one to blame? Who shall I kill?

But it was not until after several lifetimes, his precious, favorite child, watching time and time again as his loved one died of old age; never allowed near, that he, Old winter, finally gained enough power, enough purchase in Jack's soul, to make a difference.

The death of that girl, Sophie, he thinks her name was, was the final and ultimate push.

Old winter had control, oh, not over Jack (his precious, favorite, favorite child) per see, but over someone who had far more sway over his heart. Far more control.

Yes, the human boy whose death brought about his awakening, the human boy who could ask Jack to do anything, and he would oblige.

And the funny thing? Old winter snickered from the shadows of the boy's heart, relishing in the girls—Cupcake, he recalls—fear, everyone but the boy knew…

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**A/N: I'm sorry it took so long to write, for one, I didn't get my required three till today, and for another, my family has been keeping me busy, putting up decorations and all that. Beyond that, I hope this clear's up a few questions. Also, as always, remember the required quota—three reviews. **


	9. To sing again

**Disclaimer: I own naughta**

**Chapter nine: To sing again**

"On days of shivering, frozen breaths  
On nights of gloom, a thousand deaths  
Lend me your laughter, lend me your smile  
Come sit with me, tarry a while

When the mist gathers and the days are dark  
Come light my fire with your spark  
When my soul is cold and I want you here  
Be close to me, be always near

Just sit with me when I am low  
Pull me away from life's undertow  
Let us be together, let your light shine  
In your winter and on mine"

-Winterlove by Kishore Asthana, poemhunter

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"Jamie," called a voice not far off (but _long out of reach from the shore_), "Jamie," it called again as he snuggled deeper into his blankets, mind fuzzy and memory blank, "Jamie, either you wake up this instant and explain to me why the hell Cupcake's stuck in an ice cage, or I'm going to dunk you in the pond."

Dunk him in the pond? Jack would never do that, Jamie was certain of it, even if he couldn't remember much outside his warm, warm bed…

"Jamie," the voice growled—no it wasn't just any voice, it was Jack's, his precious_ favorite, favorite, _child…

Wait…what?!

Jumping out of bed, blanket flying into the air, snowflakes fluttering up and off his bed, and then slowly falling back down in disarray, each snowflake seeming to glare at him, asking why he moved when they had been so very, very comfortable, Jamie gasped at the sight of his room.

A winter wonderland indeed, Jamie inwardly snarcked, with all those deadly looking icicles, sharp sprouts of ice, ever slick and hard iced floor, who wouldn't be dying to play in here?

Alright, so he'd picked up a little sarcasm as he grew older, but, really, it was all Jack's fault, he just knew it.

"Why is Cupcake in a cage?" he eventually managed as he stared wide eyed at the figure of his best friend, her skin blue, her body shivering, eyes closed, tears of something—fear, whispered the room—frozen upon her face.

"That's what I've been asking you," Jack sighed, hands on his hips in a scolding fashion, "seriously, what do you think you're doing?"

Why did it feel like Jack wasn't speaking to him anymore?

'_Hush, it's going to be alright.' He whispered, running his hands through snowy hair, 'Everything's going to be okay.'_

The room did not speak, but the memory that flashed before his eyes—and from Jack's slight twitch, his as well—was answer enough. Comfort, it seemed to say, she'll have no room for pain if she stays.

"She'll die!" Jamie cried out in horror, "she'll die if she stay's like this!" he glared at the walls before he turned his fiery stare on Jack, "why haven't you gotten her out yet?"

Oh, the hurt look on Jack's face, the slight startled jump, normally they would have been enough to make him regret his words, to take them back and apologize, but he felt an untold rage, a sudden anger, _whywhywhy?_ The rage chanted in his mind, _why, our favorite, our favorite, ourfavorite, ourfavorite, look, look, look, at us! Not her, not them! Ususususus! _

And so he raged at the only one he could, the very cause for his distress.

"Why haven't you gotten her out yet, surly, as the Sprite of Winter, such a task should be simple for you?"

_Jack laughed brokenly,_ "Don't you think I've tried? But he—" Jack shook his head, eyes glancing away, "the type of ice used here isn't mine…it's more…"

"More what?" Jamie, no, Old winter, snarled, relishing in the pain, _painpainpian_, that radiated off Jack, "Stronger? Darker? Harsher?" he inquired with each step toward his _favoritefavoritefavorite_. "Or is it simply the fact that you're not really trying?"

"Of course I'm trying!" Jack snapped, head shooting up, but the words on his lips died as he caught sight of those shimmering red eyes, "Jamie," he whispered, taking a step back from Old winter—who'd come _within arm's length of Jack—_"Jamie" he called again, louder, as Old winter advanced a step forward for every step back.

"Jamie!" Jack cried as his back hit the ice covered wall—but it wasn't the shimmering blue, the glowing white, but a dark, harsh grey-"Jamie," he whispered again as Old winter came closer, a sickening grin twisting Jamie's handsome face as he chanted words, watching in glee as red began to seep into Jack's own glimmering eyes.

Yet the moan Cupcake gave, the slight whistle of breath, caused Jack to close his eyes in concentration. He couldn't escape, then both Cupcake and Jamie would be damned, he couldn't fight, cause then he'd hurt Jamie, but he couldn't do nothing.

_That deep, dark, dank cave, alight with flickering torches, and full of the ever echoing voice of the girl who had never given up, who had always smiled and danced, until the very end, that place, that presence, it was forever etched into the snowflakes as they fell, forever etched into the heart, the very heart, of winter._

_"You see," she began, after standing up and fruitlessly dusting herself off, "if you continue to sing my song, then I'll never truly die."_

It was a precious memory, almost as dear to him as Jamie himself, and so, with eyes alight with new determination, with voice accompanied by a long lost friend, Jack sang. He sang a song of welcoming, of sadness, of thanks, of begging, of safety, of shelter, of death, he sang a song that only he knew, a song that only he could understand, but it's effect's where immediate. And it chased away the rage of winter; it's soothing, sad, nostalgic tone brining a saddened—but awakened—smile to Jamie's face, and melting the ice as the memory of flickering torch lights danced across Jack's eyes.

"Jack," Jamie whispered past the tears, eyes back to normal as he wrapped Cupcake tightly in all the blankets he could spare, "what's happening to me?"

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**A/N: Thanks you all so very much for your reviews and compliments. Alright, so beyond my usual blabbering of "the quota is three" I also have something else to tell you beloved readers. I have just posted up a side story, explaining where it is Jack got the song he sings. It's called "The Song I Sing", if you feel up to learning a little bit more about Jack's past, then stop by and leave a review.**

…**although, I admit, this chapter is a wee bit confusing, so if you have any complaints, feel free to state them, that way I can try to fix all the confusing parts (or explain them away). **


	10. To discover again

**Di****sclaimer: I own naughta**

**Chapter ten: To discover again**

"The leaves they lie but all around  
a silent carpet on the ground  
listen carefully if you dare  
fix your eyes in a stare

As you look the ground it moves  
is it monsters, is it wolves  
raising slowly from the past  
have they come to haunt at last

Maybe if I stand quite still  
I wont get to feel so ill  
the fear is real right in my head  
oh why did I get out of bed

A burst of leaves the monsters rising  
my bowls are moving, not surprising  
as I turn and start to run  
bloody hell it is my son

He laughs he giggles, he squirms with glee  
never has he frightened me  
but for the first time and not the last  
he has got his own back for the past"

-little Boys revenge by jack frost, poemhunter

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Some would claim it all began when Jamie died, other's when Jamie first saw Jack, but Sandy knew—and only he, for Old winter had no concept of time, and was not truly of…"right mind" when he first awoke—that it truly began when Jack first saw Jamie.

For just as Old winter had been undeniably drawn to his _favorite, favorite_ child, so too, had Jack.

Perhaps all those charged with the duty of brining winter where like this, or, perhaps it was simply the fact that the last two chosen had rights to be called slightly insane (why else, Sandy thought, would Jack give up his amazing cloak for a sweatshirt?).

Nonetheless, the possession of Jamie's heart, claimed forevermore by winter,_ winter, winter_, had begun the very moment of his birth, the very moment those ice-cavern eyes widened in wonder as those little hands waved in the air, as the little mouth opened to let lose giggles as Jack poked—_poked!_—the child. The child, of course, could not see him, did not know of him, but for reasons even Sandy could not understand, Jack could poke him. Perhaps it had to do with the wind, with the feel of an ice cold gust, a gentle breath. Either way, Jack could poke the child all he wanted—although, Sandy laughingly noted, Jamie had grown quite tired of that by the age of four.

This, of course, didn't stop the fact that Jamie loved winter, and winter loved him—even before he knew the winter could.

But perhaps, Sandy grudgingly gave, although the winter was intrigued by Jamie from his very birth, it had not become so attached, so thoroughly engraved, so obviously noted by the dark, dark Old winter, until that day.

It was a day best unremembered, a day that almost made Jack take his first life, but, no, that would wait till later.

The day-for only Sandy, the bringer of dreams, would know the exact day now—was December 23, in a year best left to imagination. And the snow, as Jack danced about the children, feel ever softly, a sweet, soft song etched into each snowflake as they feel, encompassing all in laughs and giggles. But that day something went wrong, and although Sandy prided himself in knowing most everything—though he was never one to brag—what it was does not lie in even his extensive memory.

All he knew, was that on that day, as Jamie turned four (his very first fourth birthday, for no fourth birthday after was ever the same, Jack made sure of that), a tornado, strong, strange, unsightly, and, if Sandy was willing to admit it, slightly cliché and reeking of Wizard of Oz references (yes, even he read it), ran through the town and separated poor little Jamie from all others.

Jack, of course, sheltered the town, _his town_, by summoning up gusts of cold, cold wind, battling, pushing against the winds of the tornado, warm, chaotic, _red, red, red_. Yet Jack did not allow the battle to distract him from his true purpose, allowing families to hide inside their homes, and, finally, finding Jamie, crying, weak, curled into a ball. And the winter protected him, the child that cried, brown eyes wide and ever fearful, that is, until a gust, a breath, of cold, cold air, frost, some could say, floating frost, wrapped him up in a hug and sung a song, soothing, _welcoming, twirling playfully in the air, as if daring_ Jamie to sing along, to dance.

Jamie was no longer fearful then, he laughed, he giggled, he hummed along, little feet tapping in a sort of misshapen dance.

And then the tornado left, gone, defeated, leaving nothing more than a small—unbelievably small—wreckage, and the sound of howling wolves that left the Spirit of Winter shivering in reminiscence of…something.

Why was Jamie allowed so far from the others? Why did no one look?

Because his father—a douche even back then—had not cared, and, dragging his crying and struggling wife after him, had left the cold, yet warm, outside for the comforts of his home.

The anger, Sandy supposed, the pure blood lust, which had radiated off from Jack in cold, cold waves of dark grey snow, was the first warning of Old winters influence.

But even immortals make mistakes, in fact, they make far more mistakes, and so, as usual, Jack and his dilemma had gone ignored. Well, that is, only after Sandy was certain the delighted laughter of Jamie and the worried tears of his mother had soothed the winters rage.

Of course, she had helped as well, as she always had.

The little songstress offered up as a sacrifice by her people oh so very long ago.

Yes, even Sandy had dealings with her, or, perhaps it would be more accurate to say only Sandy—other than, obviously, Jack—had dealings with her. For, even she, a being of power, of songs and dances, had dreams.

Her songs, forever etched into the winter's heart, into every flake, helped tame Old winter, and lulled him gently to sleep, as she always did, for even as a memory, her songs held power, her dances sway.

Yet even humans, no matter how powerful, no matter how remembered, no matter how watchful, make mistakes. Or, perhaps, in her little clever way, she had done it on purpose—wait until after, after Old winter had snaked a sliver of his power, of his self (for even his subconscious held such power, he was feared for a reason after all) into little Jamie's heart, before her song, ever gentle, ever sweet, ever sneaky, ever full of goodbye's, lulled him back into hibernation.

Yes, although many could claim it all began when Jamie died, other's when Jamie first saw Jack, Sandy knew, he _knew_ that it started; it began, on this very day. With the howling of wolves (_a long lost memory_), and the ever nostalgic song of a girl (_and her deep, dark, dank cave). _

This was when Old winter had become, once more, a part of winter.

And everyone knows—yes, even the ever busy Tooth—that Jamie loves winter, and winter loves Jamie.

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**A/N: Well, anyway, now we know when it is Old winter entered Jamie's heart; next we'll be getting a clearer picture on how this strange possession thing works. The girl has no name, for those wondering, but the one who created the tornado will. Beyond that, I shall repeat for all those who didn't notice last time:**

**If you want to learn more about the girl read "The Song I Sing". **

**I would have added it into this story, but I just can't figure out where it would fit. So I apologize for the inconvenience.**

**Beyond that my wonderful readers, remember the magic three. **


	11. To understand again

**D****isclaimer: I own naughta**

**Chapter eleven: To understand again **

"In understanding people I've a long way to go  
And even those close to me that I think I do know  
I do not know that well I've come to realize  
The workings of Human Nature never cease to surprise  
The words of a cynical one I recall  
Everyone for themselves and God for us all  
The one who first said that may seem a lesser light  
But that person though cynical may have been right  
A scientist or psychologist or psychiatrist in the World one could not find  
Who would understand all of the workings of the human mind  
My long standing friends with fondness I recall  
Though I feel that I do not know them well at all  
And when I dislike in my friends some of the things in them I do see  
Those are the things that I do dislike in me."

-In Understanding People by Francis Duggan, poemhunter

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"…creepy…"

Alright, so perhaps the first thing out of Jamie's mouth shouldn't have been that, what, with suddenly being told—that is, after Cupcake was safely tucked in by the convenient fireplace downstairs and his mother was assuredly asleep—that he had been reincarnated several times (Jack refused to go into detail), and was being possessed…ish….by some old spirit guy with a rather lame name.

Yes, creepy shouldn't have been his word of choice, in fact, it should have—and would have—been weird. Well, at least, until Jack had randomly declared that the only reason Old winter was even targeting him was because Jack had been stalking him since the very moment he had become a sparkle in his mother's eye…the first time.

Yes, creepy suddenly became an option…although, in hindsight, perhaps it shouldn't have been the one to use. But who could blame him for concentrating on the simple fact that Jack had been stalking, _stalking_, him for several hundred years, and here Jamie thought he was bad!

"…creepy!"

But what was even worse, was the fact that some old spirit who should have been dead, was trying to take possession of them both! Though mainly Jack…

"Why is he after you again?"

Thin shoulders shrugged, staff rising slightly from its reclined position on the winter spirits arm. "I haven't the slightest idea."

"What are you?"

A smile, thin, joking, formed on pale lips, "I'm Jack Frost of course."

Yes, and Jack Frost was the supposed spirit of winter…but why would there be need of another?

"I was human once."

And humans are the only things susceptible to curses…

"Wait, human?!"

A laugh, light, gentle, fluttered into the air, "What, did you think the snow birthed me?"

"Eh…" Jamie didn't want to admit it, but he had. And the answer, so obvious on his face, caused Jack to double over in laughter, pale hands clutching tightly to his staff as he leaned on it.

Unknowingly Jamie smiled, for there, in the firelight, lights dancing about Jack's form, the house, usually cold, usually sad, and so very, very lonely, seemed like home.

Like dancing torchlights flickering at his presence, the fire light appeared to play with Jack's shadow, taunting it, begging it to dance along with some unheard song. And the sight, so right, as if some missing piece was finally in place, made the human children relax, the one awake unknowingly humming, and the one asleep curling into a content ball of happy bliss.

That is where their conversation, for that day, came to an end, and it would be a long while before it would ever pick up again…

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Loup wasn't one who paid attention to detail, but even he, a meager wolf spirit, burnt alive in a whirl of flames and chaos, could see the strange connection between the human child and winter spirit.

Alright, so half of the connection wasn't all that weird. For all Winter Bringers—his mother, her name now lost to memory, had called them—had one human they grew attached to. This person was to be—usually—their successor. Usually, of course, because this time the successor was taken before he could be properly taught, and, thus, created abnormalities in the What Is. Not only that, but the human choice of the successor, he didn't even meet the requirements!

One shouldn't ask Loup what these requirements are, of course, because he'd simply growl and proclaim that if you truly wished to know the answer, than go take it to the Sandman, or even MiM.

Nonetheless, the human child did not fit the requirements. An abnormality in the system, or what used to be the system. But the successor was an abnormality to begin with, why? Obviously for not being taught, and for being taken long before planned, but also because the Winter Bringer was—as his father had screamed of the humans that tore through the village like starving dogs—possessed.

But the strange voice, taking form in the snowflakes, the gentlest gusts of wind, the flickering of fire, and the cry of deep, dark, dank caverns, held the possession at bay. How, why, since when?

Loup's mother had called the voice The Songstress, and time held no meaning to her, to her song, her dance, for she was everywhere, and yet nowhere, all at once, so long as the successor, the newest Winter Bringer—child of winter, his younger sister had laughed—was there in some way, either human or no.

Yet The Songstress was not all powerful, and most certainly not all knowing—that is why she sang such sad, sweet songs after all—and thus the possession spread, grew, became stronger.

Yes, the previous Winter Bringer hadn't been called the Dark Trickster by Loup's grandfather for nothing. He hid, sifting his consciousness into the wind, into the snow that clung to, and followed, the successor everywhere. For, if The Songstress was currently the ultimate defense for the successor's heart, then the predecessor would simply have to wait until he had enough control over his successor's powers, his winds, his snow, before he struck.

The human child the successor chose…the child had no defense, no annoying songs of lulling and destructive capabilities, the child was weak, and vulnerable.

Better yet, each human in whom a Winter Bringer became obsessed with was given, from the very moments the eyes of the Winter Bringer and their human meets, a portion of said Bringer's heart and soul. The human doesn't know this, and will not until the day they begin the training to take up the position, but as the successor was an abnormality, neither did he.

And, because the Winter Bringers tend to be rather…mischevious….by nature, Loup recalls, it's only obvious that the predecessor would thus try to use the human child's portion of his predecessor's heart and soul to try and control him…after all, it's hard, isn't it, to deny the request of those you love beyond all else?

With a sinister smile Loup paused in his inner musings to sniff the air, the predecessor had made his move, now it was his turn.

A laugh, a howl, a cruel snapping of jaws, marked his entry into the town, and while the people cringed in fear, running from shadows and a fiery whirl of wind, Loup grinned a toothy grin, drool pooling at his feet at the mere thought, the slightest thought, of getting his revenge…

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**A/N: Sorry if this chapter isn't all that well done, I wound up typing it all up in what little spare time I had today…which means it was finished at around 1am. Beyond that, of course, remember the magic three. **


	12. To burn again

**Disclaimer: I own naughta**

**Chatper twelve: To burn again**

"Am I creepy enough to crawl under your skin?  
If yes, then when I knock please let me come in  
Am I hollow enough to give you the cool chills?  
If yes, then I'm here to do it for my own thrills  
Am I dark enough to make you wanna wear black?  
If yes, then let me drive my nails in your back  
Am I twisted enough to make you lock me away?  
If yes, then I'll beg from you, please let me stay  
Am I fun enough to make you wanna come down?  
If yes, then let's go out and paint the whole town  
Are you honest, cause that's what I truly long  
If yes, then please let me finally know what's wrong  
Do you trust me, cause you're the only one I trust  
If yes, then lets pretend it's love and not lust  
Do you hear me when I cry alone in the night?  
If yes, then promise me that we will never fight  
Am I the one that can heal all of your old scars?  
If yes, then please heal mine before it goes too far  
Am I creepy enough to crawl under your skin?  
If yes, then I'm waiting here for you to let me in"

-Am I Creepy Enough? By Triin Kann, poemhunter

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Everyone knew of how his family was slaughtered, burnt to a crisp. But no one really knew how, or why, or when. Not only that, but no one knew why a winter spirit, alone and invisible for hundreds of years (now boarding on the first thousand) would have a family in the first place…well, at least, to those humans who knew he was a spirit, this was a mystery (but, seeing as that was only two and a half—Mrs. Bennett had an inkling he wasn't as human as he appeared—this wasn't very much anyway).

Alright, so maybe saying no one is a little to encompassing, for the Guardians knew, as they always did, the answers to the mysteries surrounding Jack…alright, so maybe only Sandy knew all the answers, but the others knew most…ish.

Nonetheless, the Guardians knew why Jack had a family, and Sandy knew why it was destroyed.

But The Songstress, well, she knew everything, and with a laugh, a twirl, a dance, she'd freely give away any info to those who'd lend an ear to the cries of caves and the whispers of the dancing wind. And so, the voice of the wind, The Songstress, she'd sing a song, weaving Jack's tale into small twisters of leaves, a brushing of hair, a light, light kiss before she'd dance off into the distance, leaving only bits and pieces.

Jack, well, he had made a wish, after the killing of his _love, his heart, his soul,_ he had begged MiM to allow him to stay by Jamie's side, "I'll continue to bring winter, I'll stay a Guardian, I'll do anything, _anything_, just, please, let me stay near Jamie, _please."_

MiM had granted this wish, allowed it, but under one condition, to kill for any reason, under possession or no (though he did not say it at the time, The Songstress huffed), would eradicate Jack's rights to be a Guardian (usually, The Voice noted, the Guardians got away with unintentionally killing thousands, but they usually got a small slap on the wrists for an intentional kill, and then a whopping punishment for the second…though, with Jack, it seemed they'd skip the whole wrist slapping, not that she minded, she rubbed her wrists as the memory of those rusty chains surfaced, but she was sure Jack would have…if Jamie hadn't been involved).

Jack had lasted through several hundred years, watching his love die over and over again, and watching him struggle. If it had been anyone else, The Songstress was certain they would have broken and interfered, pushed their way back into their loves life, long before the winter spirit snapped. But, she supposed, even the Easter Kangaroo (oh how she loved tauntingly whispering of nothing yet absolutely everything in the rabbits ear, oh so low, so all he heard was a constant buzzing) snapped at the death of poor, poor Sophie. Ah, how he went into a rampage, eggs scattering and cowering and Sandy forcefully having to hold him down as Tooth soothingly spoke, North prepared to destroy any attempts at escape.

Yes, both Jack and Bunnymund broke, but only Bunny had the others to console him, Jack only had the wind, The Voice, but even they could do little. And so the rage of Old winter consumed him, whirling up from the dark depths of Jamie's wounded heart as the child, in his innocence, wished for those responsible to _pay, pay, pay. _And Jack, broken, sad, lonely Jack, he had no strength to deny such a request; such a pained, heartfelt request so full of sorrow and tears. _Make them pay. _

Jack killed, and thus, MiM took back his helping hand.

"If you wish to stay by Jamie's side, then you must kill him, the one who hides in the recesses of your heart"

No longer was MiM willing to help, but he was forgiving, and he was willing to allow others to help.

"To stay by his side?" Jack had brokenly whispered, blood coated hair covering his eyes, "I want him to see me again, I want to be able to wipe those tears off his face, to make him smile, I want…I want…"

The Songstress wasn't the only one who knew what the boy truly wanted. But, she grudgingly gave, it was Tooth, the ever mother figure, who stepped up with a plan.

"MiM will no longer help you, in other words, you can no longer be a Guardian," with a gulp she continued past tears, "after this meeting, you will no longer be able to set foot in the North Pole or go to any of our homes."

Such was the punishment of breaking an agreement with MiM.

"However, I do recall seeing a spell somewhere that would create a barrier of sorts."

"Barrier?"

A nod was his answer, "this barrier will be able to make people within a certain area see you, of course, this will be forcefully altering their perspective on the world, and will thus cause some abnormalities to occur within their minds, but these abnormalities tend to work for the best…"

"Dark magic," North whispered, "but might work."

"However," Tooth continued after being prompted by Sandy, "this spell will take a while to cast and take effect, meanwhile, we can ground you."

"Ground?"

"It means," Bunnymund spoke up, "that we take a human family and tie ya to 'em."

In other words, The Songstress laughed, twirling about in the air above Jack's head, while Jack waited for the spell to take effect, he'd have to disguise himself as part of a human family. The difference between these spells, of course, was the fact that one simply altered memories to a certain extent, allowing for Jack's sudden appearance to go unnoticed, however, this did not alter people's perspectives, so if Jack did anything out of the ordinary, he was doomed.

But Jack took to the family chosen quite nicely, in fact he had eventually began to actually think of them as family. The happy chirps of his newest little sister distracting him from the absence of Baby Tooth (who had been forbidden to see him) and the laughter of his new parents pushing the pain of past events to the far corners of his mind.

Of course, Jack never let up on his job, he still brought winter, but he had mastered the art of doing it from afar, sending clouds to do his bidding while having the hidden help of The Songstress as she laughingly sung songs of cheerful winters and painful ones alike.

Yet the happiness did not last long, and, either by a grand stroke of luck, or by a play of irony, the disaster occurred the day the spell was finally set.

Not many people know why the house caught on fire, nor do many know why a fiery tornado struck that house alone. But Sandy and The Songstress knew, and perhaps MiM, though he'd never tell.

Jack…well, Jack didn't quite remember, but the howls sent shivers down his spine.

Loup was always looking for a time to strike back against the Winter Bringer who brought about the death of his family, about the death of himself, and what better way than to kill the new family Jack held so very, very near?

Yet the wolf spirit hadn't expected the retaliation, the gusts of angry wind, the cries of deep, dark, dank caves echoing throughout the world, and the sudden appearance of a red eyed Jack as he sent the wolf flying through trees and drowning in the sea.

No, Loup hadn't expected that, but, then again, that hadn't been Jack, but the uncontrollable anger of Old winter, for Jack, the ever trickster, would have made him pay in a far more…permanent and….painful manner.

Yes, though Loup hadn't expected it, with a sadistic grin, blood—on fire, always on fire—dripping from his lips and burning the grass bellow, Jack had, at that time, been weak, and with this new found knowledge, hiding in the forest, Loup built up his strength and planned.

The Winter Bringer would pay, he would, he'd feel the wrath of spring, of wolves that had been chased down and slaughtered for their fur and meat.

_The winter was always cold, the people complained. The crops never grew, the food never lasted, the water too frozen, the fireplace never with enough wood. Yes, people, humans, they always complained about winter._

And so the wolves suffered…

And so, Loup thought with a sinister grin as he marched towards the house Jack was currently residing, will winter.

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**A/N: I am so very thankful so many of you have stayed with me. I know my writing can be rather confusing, and I'm not the best at explaining things. So I'm really, really grateful for all of you actually dealing with it. Also, to answer some questions, yes, I'm planning for the story to have a happy ending; it's just going to be a rather bumpy road. That, and I'm not very good in the actual physical aspect of relationships, as you can see by Snowy Hearts, so I might just leave it off with a kiss and maybe some hugs…though, if I get enough request's, I might try to go further, but this story isn't really in that realm anyway…**


	13. To fight again

**Disclaimer: I own naughta**

**Chapter Thirteen: To fight again**

"I understood the rest too well,  
And all their thoughts have come to be  
Clear as grey sea-weed in the swell  
Of a sunny shallow sea.

But you I never understood,  
Your spirit's secret hides like gold  
Sunk in a Spanish galleon  
Ages ago in waters cold."

-Understanding by Sarah Teasdale, poemhunter

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Jamie understood many, many things, why it was people left him alone (though now he knew the whole truth), why it was his father left, why his mother was always prepared for his arrival.

He understood the reasons behind some of his classmates fights, could tell why it was they fell in love with one another, could see when it was they had stopped believing in the Guardians—or tell if they ever did, for now a days, in a world of grand technology full of touch screen TV's and the like, barely anyone past the age of six believed.

Yet Jack, Jack he understood, and yet didn't understand at all.

Jack proclaimed he loved him, would do anything for him (Jamie had felt, _felt, _Old winter dance in glee at that) yet there he stood, facing death, pillars of fiery wind clashing against his cold gusts, and it wasn't for him, no, Jack might use that excuse, claim that he fought off the wolf of fire and wind to save him, but Jamie understood, he _knew_ that in reality, he had nothing to do with this at all. Old winter laughed at this, proclaimed that Jamie always had something to do with any action Jack took, but Jamie _knew, _knew this was simply a battle long in the making.

And he didn't want it.

He didn't want to sit back and watch his love struggle as fiery winds reached out and scorched him, leaving trails of burnt, _red, red, red, _on Jack's ever pale skin.

No, if Jack would truly do anything for Jamie, then he'd stop fighting, but, then again, Jamie thought with a resigned laugh, _anything_ could also mean he'd do things that Jamie didn't want, so long as it was to protect him; or, as with this case, had the advantage of protecting him.

"Jamie!" Jack cried, snapping him out of his thoughts before he was sent flying into a wall, Jack's cold, cold arms wrapped tightly around him, sheltering his head. "Get out of here." Was the almost silent whisper before Jack was off again, a trail of snow and frost following his wake, as blood, blue, blue blood (was it because Jack's blood was too cold to change?) fell like snowflakes onto the ground below, a trail of pitter-pattering blue mice. The wind laughed at the thought.

"You're hurt!" Jamie almost screamed, not caring how he must look, standing in the middle of a weather phenomenon, bare foot (Just like my _favorite, favorite_ child, Old winter chuckled), in pajamas, house almost completely singed, front door snapped in two, yelling at thin air like some crazed loon.

"Jamie!" It was his mother this time, Cupcake standing, shivering, behind her. "What's happening?"

"Never mind that!" Cupcake snapped, "get your skinny ass in here!"

"But Jack-!"

"Jack can handle himself!" Cupcake roared, storming out of the house and grabbing his wrist, "just get inside before you cause him to get hurt even more!"

Jamie flinched and Mrs. Bennett frowned, not pleased by the callous words, but Cupcake didn't appear to care, they were truth after all.

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Loup laughed in glee, watching the Winter Bringer struggle to keep the town safe was so very, very wonderful. All those years of waiting were worth it, he assured himself with a feral grin as he saw the blood of the successor litter the ground.

Ah, but, Loup noted, the chosen human was getting away, and that just won't do, but, he laughed, the human could wait till later, yes, till after he had the winter spirit too broken to fight back, ah, he could just imagine the Winter Bringers face as he watched, helpless, as Loup slowly tore the boy the shreds…

"Boo." A cold breath of wind informed, before tossing him to the ground. Sending him skidding away from his target, "you should really pay attention to what's going on around you." The Bringer laughed, blue eyes sparkling with some sort of twisted mirth, the cold, cold wind dancing about him in glee, slowly but surely converting Loup's fiery winds into gentler, kinder waves.

_"It's an apology." The girl's voice rang out, song still echoing throughout the cave as her eyes danced with laughter, "they think that by bestowing me with light in my final days, my soul won't come back to haunt them later. They think I'll pass on, soul cleansed and understanding as it's touched by the fires light"._

But fire is what killed the young wolf and his family, and how dare she, how dare the wind invoke such a false, false memory! The fire did no cleanse, it was no apology, it was death, and heat, and _hurts, hurts, hurts_, and he would see to it that the Winter Bringer and the damned Voice understood this.

"I'll kill you," he snarled, flames flickering from his mouth like spit, "I'll make you pay."

The Bringer only sighed, the winds gleeful, mischievous laughter dying out into a soft, soft hum, "Everyone back then, _everyone—" _The Voice scoffed in indignation, winds pulling playfully at Jack's hair, "hated winter. It was no fault of my own that the humans could not stand the cold, could not live without food."

Loup would not listen, could not, how dare he, the Winter Bringer who brought pain, and starvation, and _cold, cold, cold_ defend himself? How dare he proclaim the death of his family was like any other? Human's, children, they had died on that night too! All because, because…

"Loup," sighed the Bringer, the wind beginning a song—that he mustn't listen to, can't listen too—"Loup, it wasn't you're fault."

How dare he?

Perhaps, Jack would think later, that wasn't the best thing to say. For soon after the fiery winds, even those past converted to gentler, kinder ones, whipped about with a new savagery that sent the cold gusts staggering, leaving portions of homes exposed to the heat as they slowly began to burn.

How dare he? _How dare he?_ The fiery winds screamed, sending Jack crashing to the ground, left arm—thrown up to protect his face—stained a bubbling red.

"This…"Jack gasped to the floating memory, "isn't looking to good."

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**A/N: Thanks once again for all the wonderful reviews! And I'm glad that although this story is confusing, you lot still enjoy it. Also, a far as I can see, there will no longer be any "recap" chapters, so from here on out the story will take place in the present, so if you didn't catch on to a few things, then please tell me, that way I can have Jamie—or someone else—specifically bring up these questions. That, or I can simply explain them in a PM. Beyond that, remember the magic three. **


	14. To intefere again

**Disclaimer: I own naughta**

**Chapter fourteen: To interfere again**

"I am anything but perfect...  
You can't see what is within.  
My outer looks cannot reflect.  
The darkness of my sins...

I am like any other man,  
Does his best to get through.  
I do whatever I can,  
To stop thinking about you...

Vile thoughts are in my head,  
They help drown out my pain.  
Pictures of you lying dead,  
Ow, they all look the same...

I can't stop but wonder,  
Why the hell did I pick you?  
The moments we spent together,  
And the surprises I threw...

Didn't they mean anything?  
Or did I waste my time..  
I'm dumb for giving everything.  
Loving you was a crime..

It slowly killed me...  
Weakening me everyday..  
I was just too blind to see,  
That love has its crooked ways...

So I guess this is goodbye,  
To the memories of our past...  
I will do my best to forget you,  
Thoughts of you will be fading fast..."

-My realizations by Mike Lozano, poemhunter

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Sandy, above all else, despised silently watching. Sure, he did it all the time, watching the children sleep and softly shooing off nightmares, but that had never been forced, _that, _that had been a loving habit, a moment of blissful peace. This_, oh, this_, this was forced; forced by the ever watchful eye of MiM, glowing faintly in the darkened sky as the two winds—heated and cold—clashed, burning and freezing, leaving nothing but dust and mud in their wake.

_Why?_ He wanted to scream, why must I watch silently as our youngest—_ex-youngest, _whispered MiM—fights alone?

The moon stayed silent for a while, leaving the Sandman to watch with ever fearful eyes as Jack, _their_ child—no matter what others said, Jack would always, _always, _be the Guardians child—was forced to the ground, arm completely burnt, bubbles seething and popping on his tender skin.

_Jack_, the moon whispered at last, voice pained and tired beyond belief, _Jack must fight and win. _Before Sandy could so much as form a thought, he continued, _He must win on his own. _

But why?

The moon only sighed, his presence seeming to snuggle into the clouds, _this is his fight._

Sandy understood, but above all else, he despised silently watching…

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"Jack!" cried out the Voice, the memory, alerting him to the next blast, which he dodged with a quick backflip and a slight twist.

"Oh man," whined Jack as he danced out of the way of another hate filled blow, "my arm huuurts!"

And, considering it looked like it had been thrown in an oven and left there for hours, that was an understatement. With a sigh the Songstress floated to his side, softly singing a healing tune as he twirled once more out of harm's way, only to flinch back when his side was grazed by a sudden volley of throws, the heated winds practically melting the ground. "Hot, hot, hot!" he yelped before bouncing into the air, allowing the cold gusts to softly blow on his reddened feet.

"Can't you stay still?" the Songstress growled, almost completely missing the indignant look Jack threw her, "tell that to the mad fluffy!" he cried before he was forced to shield himself against another volley of attacks, the cold gusts wavering and rippling with each strike of blazing hot red wind. For he dared not draw too much on his power, fearing the time in between would cost the lives of the townsfolk (whose houses where already scorched and littering with red amber).

With a tired chuckle Jack pushed against the red hot winds, so the people, he thought with twisted mirth, were threatened to either die by heat, he pushed harder against the wind, forcing Loup back in the air, away from the town, or by cold—for he knew that the moment he summoned up his true powers, the red hot winds would force the cold back upon the town freezing them while Jack froze the wolf, so he would not take that risk.

With a soft hum, he acknowledged the healing of his arm, the Songstress quickly acting upon his wishes after the task was complete (perhaps the fact that she resided in the very recesses of his heart was beneficial after all).

"Hurry," was all he dared to say, feeling the memory turn to town, as another gust of wind forced his arms to almost give in. Gritting his teeth, a feral grin slowly spreading across his lips, Jack's eyes slowly turned red around the edges, "I don't you messing with me, but harming Jamie," he almost screamed, cold gusts gaining power and slowly, so very, very slowly, pushing the hot winds back, "was going way too far!"

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"So," Cupcake drawled, tough girl face back on, "you're possessed by an evil spirit which is trying to use you to try and possess Jack, and, while Jack was explaining the details, a random fiery wolf just barged in, snapping the door in two, and challenged Jack to a fight, which the snowball* then promptly forced outside, only for the town to wind up looking like it's stuck half-way between a freezer and an oven?"

Jamie simply nodded, fists clenched tight on his knees, eyes flickering from the fire-_Like dancing torchlights flickering at his presence, the fire light appeared to play with Jack's shadow, taunting it, begging it to dance along with some unheard song—_to the window-_But he'd always return by day, sitting on the window sill, swinging his left leg back and forth as he'd sing a soft melody that only the Winter Spirit seemed to know._

"Jamie," called his mother, soft hands, tender, yet strong—as if she'd been swinging the stray maces the littered the halls her whole life—cupping his face, "what can we do to help?"

"Help?" Cupcake cried, eyes jumping from one Bennett to the other, "we can't help! We're human, we'd only get in the way!"

"Normally," laughed a feminine voice, wind slithering through the crack of the window—never fully able to close after one of Mrs. Bennett's mace episodes…don't ask—"But you can do _something."_

The Bennett's turned to the twirling wind, the flickering shadows of the fire dancing about the wall, not seeming to care that they looked slightly insane, talking to the wind, "how?" they asked in unison, Cupcake's sigh of defeat telling all they needed to know.

"Take them," the fire's shadow crackled, "take the townsfolk to the very edge of town."

"The church?" murmured the Bennett's, heads tilted slightly to the left in thought.

"So," Cupcake grumped, arms crossed and eyes full of bland determination, "you want us to take the townsfolk away from the fighting of thin air so a snowball can freeze half the town in order to scare away the weird, cute, fiery, evil, crazed wolf?"

The fire's shadow and wind laughed, twisting and leaping, "I like you."

Cupcake simply turned on her heel, picked up a coat and proceeded to the door, before exiting she glanced over her shoulder to the stunned Bennett's and called, "you coming?" With a twin smile the Bennett's picked up maces (in case they had to get a little…violent), and heavy armored coats (that they had bought for Halloween—the better to fight off burglars with), before they, too, entered the battlefield.

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**A/N: Thanks again for all of your support my dear reviewers, followers, and favoriteers, yes, we are going to see the Bennett's take out some misplaced aggression on a few poor, poor innocent people. **

**I'd also like to note that I just posted up a new one-shot called "What a sight we make", currently it can be seen as another random event that occurred in Jack's life slightly before the events of "To die in your arms", though, if people wish for me to continue, I can have it be a weird little thing about what Jack did—besides stare at Jamie—during those several hundred years of waiting. Please drop by and tell me what you think. And, as always, remember the magic three. **

***Anyone who gets this reference deserves a cookie…though I'm not sure if you've seen others use this term to describe Jack either…*shrugs* eh, whatever, if you did find it somewhere else, well, you still get a cookie for remembering where you saw it. **


	15. To fear again

**Disclaimer: I own naughta**

**Chapter fifteen: To fear again**

"Nature hires her white winter coats  
To still trees starkly dressed  
Motion to the scene as wildlife notes.  
Snowflakes settle on a Robins head blessed.

He pouts his red chest, not to blush  
Rabbit stops wiggles his nose whisking snow,  
Fuelled by the icy breeze's push,  
A flash from his eye's and off he goe's,

Synchronous vibrations of Mother Nature gropes  
unleashing the resonant howls as the driving winds,  
Fuel a snowstorm down the mountain slopes,  
'Neath overhang rocks the wolf packs huddle begins.

Unseen the movement of time holds its breath  
For bears the whole winter in slumber,  
Oblivious to an icy freezing death  
Kept alive by their hibernating Jumper,

Clouds rush by with a lightning flash  
As snow and sleet feeds the weathers vice,  
Trees bend and fall with a splintered crash.  
With several birds sealed in posterities ice.

Thunder cracks the whip in this freezing scene,  
Thor declares enough is enough from the mountain tops,  
Rumbles in the distance grow softer for white to go green,  
Heralding a shaft of light appearing and the snow stops,  
And a bird sings."

-Winter's Snowstorm by Ken e Hall, poemhunter

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Tooth wasn't one to break the rules, no; it wasn't because she didn't want to, or because she agreed with every last one (in fact, she found the idea that one shouldn't go about breaking ever last tooth in a pedophiles face ridiculous) , it was simply because she couldn't find the time.

But above all else, Sandy despised silently watching…

And so the little man had sent a rather urgent message, a plea, carried on golden pigeon wings.

_Help Jack. _

And, with a sinister smile, pearly whites shimmering in the light, feathers gleaming and running from green, to auburn, to blood red, to shimmering blue, she swore (along with her army of baby teeth) that she'd do far more than simply answer the plea, screw the rules, screw leaving _her child, her son_ alone to fend for himself, she had done that for too long, _too long, _and she'd finally had enough.

Jamie and Jack were going to have that happy ending, weather to world, or MiM, liked it or not. And no fool was going to tell her otherwise.

…less they wanted their teeth slowly ripped out as they were torn apart…

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"Mrs. Bennett" shouted Mr. Jones, a neighbor and father of one of the children who Old Winter had killed (he, along with the rest of the parent's, where far too snobby to bother moving, even after that incident. Why? Because living in the same town as Mr. Bennett was good for their images.) "I would very much appreciate it if you would put the mace down and talk in a more sensible manner!"

"Sensible?" the petite women asked, cocking her head to the side and staring quizzically at the skittish buffoon before her, "what is there not to get about the fact that a snowstorm is coming and we need to seek shelter?"

"Perhaps it is the fact that you're holding a mace, on my doorstep, and warning me about what appears to be possible intimate death and telling me to exit my safe and comfortable home to go with you –whose holding a mace rather threateningly—"

"You've already mentioned that."

"—into what appears to be a very, very, very scorching tornado—"

What the man was going to complain about next was forever lost in history, or, perhaps, just lost in general, 'cause history would surely never make note of it, for the door was quickly reduced to ash as a wave of heat crashed into it, thus singeing Mr. Jones hair, and reducing his "safe and comfortable" house to a cinder box.

"Coming." He squeaked.

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"Is that the last of them?" Cupcake inquired as Mrs. Bennett walked in, a rather smug look on her face and some blood splattered on her mace as a rather poor looking fool stumbled in after her, holding his side and groaning something about crazy sociopaths, a hospital, a mental institute, and never, ever turning his back on an armed women again.

"Yup," Mrs. Bennett chirped, eyes a little too bright as she scanned the shivering and shaking crowd huddled before her, "I see you put a healthy dose of fear into them."

"Don't let Pitch hear you say that." Called Jamie from behind, his own mace swinging leisurely in hand, though at the look of the women before him he back peeled and stared to the side in confusion, "Pitch?"

"Seems like you're memory's coming back." Chirped an all too happy and buzzing voice, sounding at once from one direction then swirling in a green and blue haze to the next in an overabundance of energy, "though I can help speed it along."

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"Getting tired?" Loup taunted, eyes alight with flame and pulsing in some unknown rhythm as he glared down at the winter's child, whose eyes were almost eclipsed in red.

"Not yet." The Winter Bringer laughed; a dark and sinister sound as the winds, cold, slicing, freezing winds, pushed with a sudden surprising force against their heated counter parts.

_They are safe, _the Voice sang, twirling and leaping, and landing. _Her voice, it seemed, forever held two things, song and laughter._

"Then it's time for you to pay." Jack grinned, feral, snow swirling and catching in his hair, sweeping dust and ash up and up and up, as icicles of dark, dark blue (as blue as the day Old Winter had fought with the Reaper) danced and weaved into the air.

In a blink, Jack's eyes were eclipsed, and the wolf was sent flying.

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**A/N: Hello dear reviewers (though there are far less of you know then before), as per usual the review's necessary for the next chap are 3, three, 3. This chapter is the only exception, and that's due to Alana and Kasume-sama, so be sure to thank them and offer up cookies to their greatness.**

**Beyond that, please check out "What a Sight We Make", even if you wind up not liking it, drop a review, that way I at least know whether or not I should continue it. **


	16. To clash again

**Disclaimer: I own naughta**

**Chapter sixteen: To clash again**

"The holiday makes glad the heart  
Of every child who knows their part.  
-But for adults like you and me  
may cause distress, perhaps ennui.

The days I hoped would never end,  
The time I thought I'd spend with friends.  
Lost opportunities liter my path  
Then vanish as quickly as a laugh.

Not so, the hours spent alone  
Dreadful, slow, they bore on home.  
With a palpable sense of waste-  
They leave me with a bitter taste.

Minds wander, memories fade  
Thus happy moments are mislaid.  
Just be grateful even thus  
pain and regret are turned to dust.

If I again could be a child-  
But no, time doesn't backward run.  
Accept my time for what it is-  
a moments' sweetness on my tongue."

-A misplaced minute by John F. McCullagh, poemhunter

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The snowstorm ripped through town, sending vehicles (in that day and age they were hover craft) crashing into hovering signs and trees, and decimating homes, leaving nothing more than metal beams and perhaps a random toilet or two.

Those within the church (which was everyone from town and their goldfish) quivered in fear as another gust of wind rattled the windows and sung with a joyous bloody rage, the whispers of pain flitting, catching and wavering in the wind, echoing, and howling, and growling, sent their teeth chattering.

"What do you mean my memory's coming back?" Inquired Jamie, no longer physically—or mentally—able to find the fluttering bird-like women strange.

"You should have some inkling," the vibrant women replied as she buzzed about in the air, not really caring when her tail feathers tickled a poor bystanders nose, sending them into a frenzy of sneezes (which, sadly, was the only indication that anyone besides the three of them—the Bennett's and Cupcake—noticed the strange women's presence.) "You should have noticed by now how you can recall things about Jack that you shouldn't know in this life" a small twinkling smile found wormed its way across her face, "like what his skin tastes like."

The blush, as red as the flame that adorned Loup's fur, was slightly ignored.

Which, in other words, means Mrs. Bennett cooed and Cupcake jokingly gagged, both women looking away and hiding there laughter, though Mrs. Bennett's overzealous swinging of her mace was a slight indication.

"What do you mean you can help speed it along?" Jamie pushed, trying to completely ignore the slight gibe.

The women paused for but a millisecond in her buzzing, hand on her chin as she scrutinized the boy before her, "I can help you regain all you're memories of Jack Frost, but you will also gain all of your memories without him."

"Without?" muttered Cupcake, her head tilted and her eyes staring out a decorated window pane, staring out into the whirling frozen winds, the slithering frost, and recalling to mind a small ice sculpture, the gentle tugging of playful winds, the beckoning of shimmering snow.

"I have no such memories." Jamie and Cupcake whispered, their eyes meeting and speaking and agreeing as they turned to the one they now knew as the Tooth Fairy together, "Jack has forever been with us, weather we knew it or not."

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"Damn you, damn you, damn you!" The wolf howled, front left leg snapped and torn in two, the bottom half hanging on by a few mere layers of skin. "I'll kill you!"

Jack simply stared, boredom rolling off him in waves, eyes still eclipsed by blood red, but with a strange pulsing blue glimmering from beneath. "Give up." He commanded, ice swirling around him, forming shapes of great diversity, from long spears to glimmering mermaids. The Voice, a forever piece of his heart, sung songs that spoke of a different demeanor, songs of hurt, pain, sadness, longing, forgiveness, and strange twirling love.

But Loup ignored all of this, fire leaping from his throat and scorching the ground, tears of flame fluttering and catching on torn heated winds, he ripped off the rest of his dangling leg, a blood curdling howl lighting the winds up with dancing torch lights that refused to die, no matter how close they came to the winter spirit.

"Die." The wolf whispered as his leg was slowly replaced, rebuilt, by flame, "Die. Die. Die. Die!"

The torch lights charged, carried by the cry of their master, and the floating ice sculptures, given life and thought, rushed forward to greet them.

Their master's, the Winter Bringer and the wolf, clashed as well, Jack's staff blocking a strike from fiery claws, the flames licking and biting into the frozen wood before Jack quickly pulled his beloved staff back and sent a quick kick to Loup's head.

The wolf jumped back, spitting flames and tossing scorching gusts forward, rage blinding him of accuracy as they crashed into the forest bellow (for the winters child had tossed him a great distance from the town).

Only Sandman, floating high above the fight, well into the clouds, noted the strange beauty of the clash, the flames lighting the forest and causing the ice sculptures to shimmer, beautiful dancing reflections gleaming in their forms as they fought against the torch lights.

And thus only Sandman noted how (for his sands allowed him to watch many things at once) as Jamie grew closer to remembering his past, Old winter had to struggle to keep his control over his successor. For it was the loss of his love that made Jack weak enough for Old winter to gain power, with the returning, perhaps Jack could fight him off for good.

Though, Sandy supposed as he watched Jack's eclipsed eyes glimmer in sadistic glee when one of the roaming ice spears found its way into Loup's shoulder, perhaps Jack's personality was corrupted beyond repair.

And, now that he thought about it, didn't Old winter have almost complete control over Jamie? So why didn't he move to stop the return of memories?

The Songstress gasped beside him, her presence at once singing by Jack, and dancing on roof tops, and tickling feet, _We have to stop Tooth, _she cried. Only to yelp in surprise as sand circled her form.

_Let her be, _Sandy smiled reassuringly, _Tooth is far more formidable then you might think. _

And no one, _no one, _gets between a Tooth Fairy and her goal.

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**A/N: Wow, after the long wait for simply two reviews last chap, the requirements where meet within a day for this one. Did I ever mention that I love you guys? And thank you so much for enjoying Mrs. Bennett's character; I was afraid I had gone a little over the top. Now, as always, remember the magic three. **


	17. To remember again

**Disclaimer: I own naughta**

**Chapter seventeen: To remember again**

"I was born, way before the 90's  
When life, was not so fast,  
When things were cheap and cheerful - but  
Always made to last.

No electric iron,  
With buttons pressing steam,  
You got an old wet tea towel - and  
Pressed along the seam.

No electric blanket,  
To make you, snug and warm,  
'Twas just a coat, thrown on the bed,  
All tatty and well worn.

No electric washer,  
Instead - a Dolly Tub,  
No electric mangle,  
Just a dam good rub!

No fangled vacuum cleaner,  
With tools, for everyone,  
'Twas an old Bex Bissell sweeper,  
That you just pushed along!

Oh yes, we do remember,  
When life was not so fast,  
When things were bought for pennies - but  
We knew that they would last! - and

Yes we sure remember,  
That life was sometimes hard - but  
Oh what a laugh, we all did have -  
As we played in our back-yard! - and

Mother she would call us, and  
Say 'It's time for tea' - and  
After, it was bath time,  
Our hearts would fill with glee!

A bath so full of water,  
We thought that we would drown,  
We splashed about, and threw some out -  
Oh Mother, she would frown! - for

The water, it was precious, and  
Must be shared amongst us all,  
The old ones, they would go in first - and  
You'd be last, if you were small.

Oh yes, I do remember,  
The days when we were young,  
The fun we've had - the joy we've had - and  
The Songs, that we have sung.

I'll leave you for a moment,  
With quiet thoughts, alone...  
For memories that are in your heart,  
No-one else, can ever own!

With Love to all those who remember... x"

-Memories Oh Sweet Memories! By Margo Posh, poemhunter

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People are weakest when they dream, when subconscious fears and delights come to the surface; when hidden secrets and inner musings run amok. Yet they are weaker still when they remember. For time erodes and changes things, not only places, torn down or worn, or people, crumbling in, but memories. Where faces of people so very loved, so long ago lost, are slowly forgotten. The sound of their voices fading to mere whispers, their words to mere floating phrases painted onto the back of eyelids. Yes, time erodes and weakens many, many things, allowing those with enough power to alter what was really there, to change it, to make illusions. And as a great deal of time has passed since the first death of Jamie…how weak has time made his memories?

With a chuckle Old winter prepared himself. The moment the fluttering women (the Tooth Fairy, he recalled) gave back Jamie's memories, sealed away to keep him from searching for his beloved—which would have put more strain on Jack as he struggled to keep his end of the bargain—Old winter would strike. Altering, twisting, distorting, he'd make his mark, weaken Jamie's soul, destroy it, alter it, and then he'd finally, _finally_, have complete and utter control (which he sort of did, but not over Jack, due to the loss of memories the connection between the lovers, while still there, was nowhere near strong enough to allow a complete take over, which was why his successor was currently able to draw upon his knowledge and rage while still in…slight….control).

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Tooth knew allot of things, like the location of each of her fairies, where it was each child slept, where every pedophile hide, which ones changed, which ones didn't, which toothpaste was the best, the several different ways to kill with floss, and so on. But amongst those things she knew what Old winter was up to. And she knew how to stop it. No, not stop it, but more like…turn it to her advantage.

Sure, this skill had taken years to perfect (especially since she couldn't practice it often due to being busy and because it had to be done in secret, less MiM notice). And perhaps it wasn't even really "perfected" yet. But it was close enough, and while Jack kept Loup busy and MiM distracted (for why wouldn't he watch in agonized worry as one of his "children"—as North liked to claim—fought for his life while forcing his well-liked Sandman to _do nothing_), she would make her move.

For while Old winter had owned the domain of snow and cold and frost, and while Sandy owns the domain of dreams, she owns the domain of memories, and there, there is where they, she and the greybeard, will fight.

A sinister smile, hidden by shadow as snow and hail pelted the windows, strengthened by song almost silent in its gentle whistling, crept its way across Tooth's face as her feather's danced in color, fluttering between red and green and brown.

"You ready?" she chirped to Jamie, eyes bright, then glowing as the boy nodded, Cupcake placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "You're coming too girl." Tooth called as she began to walk away.

"Huh?" yelped Cupcake in surprise, Mrs. Bennett tilting her head in a silent question, "you're both coming." Tooth amended, sinister smile making way for a consoling one as Jamie feel with a thump to the floor.

"But the people…"

"Can deal without the three crazy mace wielders—"

"I don't have a mace."

"-for around," Tooth continued as she fluttered about, ignoring Cupcake, eyes darting before they landed on a crack in the window, "three minutes."

"Wha?"

Alas, the girl and women could never finish their inquisition, for soon they too were on the floor, but they weren't going to the land of dreams (or, as Jack claimed people called it now a days, lala land), but off to the dream of memories.

And, with a flick of her wrist, Tooth was soon there as well.

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Before Loup could retaliate for the ice spear graciously impeded into his shoulder, Sandy sent a small fluttering of sand, a dwarf hamster in shape, down to the earth, before it wiggled it's way between Loup's paw's, it's form shifting to a prey mantis as it quickly sent several progressive pokes to the wolf's front paws, distracting him from the battle.

MiM could only groan in denial as several spears, flung by mermaids of ice, soon caged the wolf in.

_Jack's personality_, Sandy pointed out to the Man in the Moon, _while corrupted, is still kind. _

_You interfered. _MiM accused, _this may change things for the worse. _

_Perhaps, _Sandy shrugged, a smile tugging at his lips, _but Loup is stubborn, if things had continued as they were, Jack would have had no choice but to kill him. And_, Sandy inquired, face tilted slightly up and to the side, _do you really want to witness him kill again? _

MiM sunk behind the clouds, eyes seeming to wander before the Voice, ever tactful, began to dance upon the sand cloud, winds pulling playfully at the sand and causing some to flutter into the moons face. _We have all killed, _she sung, voice light and full of misleading joy, _what difference does it make if winters child does the same? _

_It had never been done consciously!_ MiM cried, falling for the Voices bait, _Jack is no more than a child!_

_That you have pushed away and shunned, _the Voice drawled, skipping back and forth, Sandy watching silently, _don't you think it's a little late, _she continued, cutting MiM off, _to start babying him? _

_Agreed, _Sandy declared, eyes glimmering in determination, sand dancing in glee, _it has been far, far, too long for us to start babying Jack now, however, _he and the Voice continued, _Old winter and Loup, enemies of our child—not yours!—have finally made their move, and unknowingly, they are presenting us with an opportunity to set things right. _

"And we take it!" Roared North, voice carrying on the wind, while Bunnymund sat holding a barf bag in the back of the sleigh, "make no interference with fight," North continued before MiM could protest, "beyond, course, what Sandy already done. However! We help rebuild! Explain! Cure all injury! Eat some cookies! Drink come coco!"

_Have a victory party! _The Voice laughed in glee, hands, mere wisps of wind, clapping.

Of course, as Sandy and MiM where the only ones who knew about the Voice, North and Bunnymund (whose stomach finally settled down) where about to ask about her presence; alas, a rather large explosion stopped all conversation.

"By the eggs," Bunny whispered, eyes wide and ears flat against his head, "how many of those buggers are there"

"Wolves," North croaked, "many, many wolves, all on fire."

_I warned you, _MiM sighed; _interfering would just make things worse. Jack should have defeated Loup while he had the chance…now…now the child doesn't stand a chance. _

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**A/N: Yeah, Sandy and Tooth finally started doing something and North and Bunnymund finally appeared. Though I'm not sure if wandering the realm of memories will count as a flashback or not…I'll try to make the actual recollection of events original and un-flashback like. But I might just glimpse over those parts and go quickly to the fighting…what do you lot think? Beyond that, I know the last part's slightly confusing, but it'll be explained next chapter. And, as always, remember the magic three. **


	18. To tell again

**Disclaimer: I own naughta**

**Chapter eighteen: To tell again**

"The best way to avoid misunderstandings,  
Amongst those heated in debate...  
In your presence.  
Is to not be the one who is quick to volunteer,  
A willingness to express maturity.  
With a seeking to comprehend,  
How a conflict initiated to begin.

Let those who choose to pointlessly argue,  
With no resolve in view...  
Continue.  
And when asked to express an opinion to give,  
Stare with a blank face in space.  
As if you have not a clue why anyone would ask...  
You,  
Anything.

If that doesn't work,  
Pretend you are looking for your house keys...  
That you hold clearly to be seen,  
In your hand.  
Then do a quick exit,  
The moment someone notices this...  
With a bringing of it to your attention."

-The Best Way To Avoid Misunderstandings by Lawrence S. Pertillar, poemhunter

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"Rage spirit." North murmured, quickly taking out his swords as Bunny prepared his boomerang.

"Rage spirit?" Bunny tilted his head, eyes turning to slits as he quickly assessed the opponents, ready to slice off the head of any wolf who dared to get too close to the winters child (who'd yet to notice their arrival). "I thought we'd killed off all those blocks already."

_Spirit of Rage may make as many Rage spirit's as he chooses, though, with the little power he has, one seems reasonable. _Sandy explained, ignoring the use of pictures.

"By the way mate," Bunny blinked toward the Sand Man, throwing his boomerang once to destroy a wolf that had gotten too close to Jack's back, "why can we hear ya?"

The Songstress laughed, wind tugging gently at the Easter Bunny's fur, _let us sign a song, a song of victory! _

"Agreed!" cried North, jumping down towards the fight while shouting up, "Let wind carry messages! Let us end fight!"

With a sigh, a roll of the eyes, Bunny jumped down after him, "Fine! But I ain't gonna use the sleigh to get back to the Pole!"

A jolly laugh and a swish of twin swords, followed by a howl of pain, was his answer.

Sandy smiled at the two, watching Jack, eyes swirling a pulsing blue and a glowing red, turning to greet them with a frown, a nod, a spear to the heart of a pouncing wolf. _How could they hear me?_, the little man directed to both MiM and the Voice, but MiM had gone to hiding behind layers upon layers of clouds, summoned by Jack's freezing storm, and the Songstress, never one to stay in one place long (a lot like Jack in that manner), had skipped off to the church, singing a song of gentle soothing and sweet lullaby. With a sigh, Sandy shook his head, and sent a whip of sand to send ten wolves flying, sputtering and dying as they were assaulted by cold air.

"Sandy!" Jack cried, relief and joy alighting his face before he had time to recall their last fight, which, if the quick turning of the heel and the silent volley of ice spears raining down and killing over fifty wolves was any indication, still left him feeling slightly annoyed. Not betrayed, or mad, of course, because Sandy had been the only Guardian to ever give him attention during his long three hundred years of solitude before Jack had meet Jamie, and even then, even after the winters child had fallen in love, Sandy had remained, kind smile, warm arms, willing to listen and console, especially after Jamie's death—and the finding out thereof.

Hell, even the fight had been slightly ridiculous, but Jack, for all his years, was still a child a heart, and thus he had rights, he supposed, to being silly and fighting and being angry over the most ridiculous of things…like actually talking to Jamie.

"Jack!" called North, one sword inches from his face, splitting a wolf in two, "why wolf mad?"

"Huh?"

"We find out what made him mad mate," Bunny shouted, boomerang slicing through ten wolves before being caught and smashing another's head in, "and we can find a way to calm him down."

"Wha?"

_Rage Spirits gain power when mad_, Sandy sighed, whip slicing through another row of charging wolves, eyes hardening in anger as mermaids, glistening and fighting for all their worth, where overwhelmed, slowly turned to nothing more than vapor, and watching as the fire spread through the forest, contained only by the protective winds and storm that Jack had conjured. _So long as they remain enraged they may split into several different forms, overwhelming their enemy. For each one duplicate we cut down, twenty more replace them, for the rage only builds. _

"And I suppose you can't just put the guy to sleep?" Jack inquired helplessly, sighing and forming more mermaids, doves, reindeer, and, ironically, wolves.

"Just tell us what made him mad." Bunny snapped, quickly jumping back from a falling tree, ears flicking back and forth to rid themselves of the ash.

"That won't help unless you can find the real one."

"Find Loup?" North laughed, slapping his belly, "my belly knows!"

All three Guardians stared before shrugging and continuing to fight the seemingly endless battle; which…wasn't so seemingly endless.

"Alright!" Jack twirled his staff, freezing over yet another fallen tree, sweat falling down his face as he took deep breaths, a small circle of Icelings (as Jack had come to call them in his mind) warding off all attacking wolves. "I'm not going to forgive you guy's if you don't make this work!" his companions, still fighting, managed to pull themselves closer, "Once I tell you what made him mad I'm going to turn this little forest into the Antarctic—at least, I'll give it my best shot—that should whip out most of his army and confuse him, giving you guys a good minute to calm him down."

Before the three could protest, Jack shot into the air, sand quickly circling the three and forming a protective shield as he shouted, "Being trapped!" then all went dark, and cold, and very, very silent.

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Blinking, Jamie stared at the sky above him, a beautiful night sky littered with stars and lightened with a smiling moon (why he thought it was smiling is beyond him), echoed with laughter, soon replaced by joyful voices.

"Jack!" called one, a voice so familiar, as they raced across the field in which he lay, the cold ice freezing his fingers as Jamie slowly pushed himself up, glancing about.

"What is this?" He heard Jack say (for he'd know the voice of his beloved anywhere), "Jamie Bennett, running late?"

With a huff the other Jamie –J2, Jamie decided to call him, brown eyes slowly taking in the scene before him, mind still groggy, still weakly trying to figure out what was going on—lightly tapped Jack's nose, "Yes, well, not all of us can fly over traffic."

Ah, Jamie sighed, plopping back down on the lake, this was a year before...a year before, before…

"_Gods, Jack, you better not be playing, or I swear I'm going to sock you!"_

_Not that he really would, Jamie could yell at Jack, throw stuffed toys at him, but never really hurt him. Gods no, harming Jack…the mere thought of it constricted his heart and robbed him of his ability to breath._

A startled gasp, strangled and almost completely silent, made its way through Jamie's throat.

_"I'm sorry…Jamie, I'm so, so sorry…"_

"Jamie!" cried Jack's voice laughingly in the background, "give up, you're never going to beat me in a snowball fight!"

"I can try!" laughed J2 from behind a tree by the lakes edge, neither noticing how a figure in the distance quickly jumped up and ran, ran, ran_, ran_, anywhere, anywhere, but not there, not _there._

Sobbing the boy continued to run, feet carrying him through a town that made him feel like laughing in joy yet balling in despair.

_I'm home. I'm home._

His mind screamed in denial as it took in the details of the buildings, lovingly draped in snow and ice, _how could I forget? Why! Why did I forget? How could I-?_

"Jack!" he heard children cry to his left, Cupcake and all his other friends gathered around, "Jack, please, let's play a game!"

The laughter of his love ghosted on his heels as he flew to the next street, away, away, _away, _"Jack," Jamie heard another version of himself say, walking leisurely down the street, Jack Frost floating above his shoulder, "what do you think we should do this year, for the Christmas party?"

Neither notice as Jamie flew right threw them, eyes clamped shut, hands over his ears, "please." He begged, "just let me have time to think things over, don't bombard me with this, not all at once, please, not all at once." The overflowing emotions the memories produced were too great for him to accept like this. Time, time was all he need.

But, as he rushed to a stop before the Tooth fairy, her army of baby teeth behind her, facing off against what appeared to be a very creepy old man (Old winter, he supposed), he knew he wouldn't get any.

_"They…you…Jamie…today is the day you're going to die."_

_"I can help you regain all you're memories of Jack Frost, but you will also gain all of your memories without him."_

Oh gods, Jamie groaned as he quickly hides behind a building, If the memories _with_ Jack where hard to handle, then the memories without were going to be hell…

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"So" snarled Old winter, face wrinkled not from age (for he had been turned at forty) but from the strain of having his soul split and weakened (for the good half was with MiM somewhere), "You've figured me out."

The tinkling laugh was his answer, the baby teeth chirping and buzzing.

"How did you know?" He quickly shook his head, "No, that concerns me not; I'll kill you all the same."

"Hhmm," Tooth hummed, eyes glittering dangerously, finger on lips as she drew one of her own swords from seemingly within her feathers, "We shall see."

And then she charged.

Within mere seconds she was before Old winter, smirk in place, eyes still glittering, sending a fist into his face and plunging one of her swords into her opponents leg, the other quickly flashing around and nearly slicing off his head, only to be intercepted by a wall of ice, and blown back by a gust of cold, dark wind.

Jumping back the two assessed each other for a while—or, more like Tooth assessed a wall, and Old winter went about assessing the memory world—only for baby teeth to teleport from behind Tooth to directly around Old winter, forming a circle as they struck, over and over again, leaving the man too distracted to reinforce his wall, and allowing Toothiana to cut through it with her wings (her swords would have taken longer, but, man, was cutting through the wall backwards uncomfortable…).

"How on Gaia did you pests," Old winter snarled, swatting away another baby tooth, "get through my barrier!"

"Tut, tut!" smirked Tooth, the ice wall falling behind her, "this is _our_ world. Which means—" she laughed, a dark sinister laugh, violet eyes set in a passionate glare, "we can do whatever we want, isn't that right girls?"

Her reply was the charging of her army and the cries of Old winter, as he was slowly, slowly, cut and beaten, and battered.

But her control over the domain of memories wasn't one hundred percent, and Old winter was not known as the Dark Trickster for nothing…

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**A/N: Thank you all so very much for your reviews. I know this chapter is longer than the others, but that's because I figured I've drawn Loup's fight out long enough—so I got as much of it as I could in this chapter, without it being overwhelming (I wanted Jamie's adventure to be in here too, along with Tooth being awesome…), therefore, don't expect this length for the next one. I'm also going to refrain from writing the word "rage" as much as possible in the future. Beyond that, I'm sorry if Jack's fight scene sucked, I'm not all that good with such a mass amount of fighting parties. **

**I'm also considering changing the genre of this story to something other than angst…'cause it's not all that angsty anymore. I'll keep the mystery, because this story can be rather confusing—thus mysterious (in my fair opinion)—but what do you lot think the second one should be? **

**Lastly, aren't I evil, leaving you with not only one cliffhanger, but three in a row? **

**Well, nonetheless, remember the magic three (reviews, not cliffhangers). **


	19. To confront again

**Disclaimer: I own naughta**

**Chapter Nineteen: To confront again**

"Spoken in truth  
You heard a lie

Uttered in joy  
You created despair

Partaken in intentioned communion  
You made it the center of fraction

Where there was hope  
You brought guilt

And where there was peace  
You found the way to war

For all these things and a million more  
You are responsible, with all the heavy  
And foul misdeeds on your soul  
For these the world was exploded  
And for these the Earth never began

For you had taken the fertile soil  
And ground your salt into it.

For these misdeeds fallen man suffers  
At your despised and crafty hands

For give you, forgive us all  
We must, for you reside

In the deepest heart of each of us  
And for these things the heart remains broken

For now and for all seeming eternity  
Until the coming of the second."

-Misunderstandings of Religious Differences by Denis Kucharski, poemhunter

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"Had enough?" Tooth hummed, her little army backing off and circling around her, each babbling in excitement. Old winter merely groaned from his place on the ground, the ice cold wind seeming to ghost over him in a false sense of comfort. "Alright girls," the fairy queen giggled, "Old winter wasn't all that hard to defeat, but how about we go and have some apple pie?"

The army cheered, flipping and chattering, mere blurs of green, gold, and brown. "But," Tooth laughed, eyes full of merriment, "We have to go find Jamie first."

"That is a good question," came a sigh, a breath, by her ear, sending shivers down her spine, "where is that brat?"

Turning sharply, blades twirling, Tooth barely managed to cut off a few strands of her opponent's hair, his eyes shimmering red and dancing in sadistic glee as Old winter quickly froze twenty of her baby teeth in on swift motion, a quick sweep of his arms. "How?!" She all but yelled, worry evident as she quickly chased him away from her beloved fallen helpers.

"In the domain of memories, who has control?" the man grinned, tilting his head to the side as the world shifted just so, quivering and quacking as buildings where soon replaced with trees, as snow and dirt took the place of gravel, and as the light of the world, it's aura, turned to a darker shade, a shade of grey and tears that screamed of lonely nights.

"I'll give you the answer." Old winter laughed as he dodged another swipe, eyes glowing with sinister glee as a dark blue spear of ice took Tooth by surprise, cutting her arm and making her jump back and to the left, one sword fallen to the snow as one hand reached up and grasped as her injured limp, the blood staining the snow a deadly red. "Those that dare to remember."

"Yeah," a voice off in the distance, behind a tree, laughed, "but whose the one remembering, you, or me?" Jamie finished, dark brown eyes alight in challenge as he moved from his cover, bags under his eyes and form pale and tired. Taking Old winter's distraction as a chance for attack, Tooth and her remaining fairies swiftly charged, no cries of challenge, or dramatic shout informed the man of the assault, and, as such, he could only gasp as a sword plunged into his side, through his back and out his front, and another swiped off one of his arms.

Only the small smile of the boy before him, tired as it was, body leaning heavily on a tree for support, warned Old winter of his coming death, of the sinister and protective glimmer in Toothiana's eyes.

His final thought, before Tooth savagely sliced him in half, was on how beautiful the lake looked, how beautifully sad, with the child weeping by the lakes edge, small arms wrapped around thin legs as he cried and cried and cried, _where are you? Who are you? _ As if begging, _begging_, for something so long ago lost, so torturously torn from his life, something he loved more than life itself, begging, please, _please_ come back.

His last words? "Ah, I see."

Then, as Tooth's sword glided through his body, he vanished, leaving only a small, dark, tarnished fluttering of snow. The wind seemed to sob slightly, as if mourning the loss of a valued friend.

"Jamie," Tooth tiredly called, ignoring the wind and fluttering snow, helpers buzzing around her in worry, "it's time to go."

"To Jack?"

A slight drooping of a feathered head was his answer.

After gathering up all the frozen fairies and defrosting them, Jamie tiredly stood before Toothiana and gave a sigh before glancing at the sky, closing his eyes, and taking a deep long breath. He stayed that way for a while, Tooth simply hovering over the ice, eyes sad as she tried to ignore the image of the crying child. After a minute Jamie opened his eyes, now glowing with a determined light that aged his face in reverse, bringing back the image of the child who dared stand before Pitch, "I'm ready."

"And so are we!" Called Mrs. Bennett cheerfully as she ran through the forest, coming to a stop before the ice as Cupcake caught up to her, "though, really, the only reason why I could see you possibly wanting to take us along for the trip, Mrs. Tooth fairy, is so that we can help give the love birds a happy ending, both in the human world, and in the mythical."

"Mythical?" Cupcake gasped, not used to running such distances, but Mrs. Bennett simply laughed, her eyes dancing in glee at the slight blush that danced across her sons face, "well, the Guardians will handle the mythical part, but we can't have those pesky humans ruining everything, now can we?" she chirped as she danced towards the tired pair.

"Shall I remind you that we're also under the classification of 'pesky humans'?" Cupcake called as she slowly made her way across the ice. Before stopping and turning to the crying child. With a sigh she took off her coat and laid it on the memories shoulders, softly patting little Jamie's head as she whispered, "just be patient, you'll meet him again, you love, your heart, your soul," before she continued on her way, blatantly ignoring the stares the others gave her.

"We'll, are we going or not?" she snapped, stomping her foot, "The Snow Prince is waiting for his beloved."

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**A/N: Thanks so very much for actually enjoying the arrival of the other Guardians (though, I believe I've messed up on the accents…). And I'm sorry if you're disappointed in the lack of Jack and the others in this chap, but they will be in the next one, promise. As for Mrs. Bennett and Cupcake, they had their original memories restored as well, and though Cupcake remembers the most about Jack, Mrs. Bennett has had to live through all those years of watching her son wilt away again. So she'd bound and determined not to have to see it ever again. That, and the little one-shot that I posted up, "The Little Things", explains one of her past encounters with Jack. So while they're memories aren't exactly important enough to recall, they are important enough to make mention of—at least, the returning thereof—'cause their memories are what's going to cause the two to assist the Guardians in every way they can. **

**Although none of you answered my question, I suppose that's to be expected…I'll just turn the second genre to adventure or something…or I'll change it back to general…**

**Either way, remember the magic three. **


	20. To howl again

**Disclaimer: I own naughta**

**Chapter twenty:To howl again  
**

"Silent understanding  
smelt like an empty well  
moldy, but wise.  
Thick, unreliable fog  
clearly no clear sight  
Dewy liquid  
you slip, you fell  
Although I hope all is well"

-Silent Understandings by Ryan Arthur Walker, poemhunter

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All went dark, and cold, and very, very silent.

As the three Guardians held their breaths, listening, ears strained for any sound, any signal, Sandy went over Jacks last words.

_"Being trapped!" _

Yes, the words themselves were easy to understand. But Jack had said they had all of one minute to calm the wolf spirit down. And how, exactly, was one supposed to go about making Loup feel un-trapped? Flying obviously didn't do the trick. So Sandy couldn't very well just toss the wolf into the sky…

_What we have, a freedom trapped? Or a trapped freedom? _The Songstress sighed, presence slinking through the cracks of sand, slithering and sliding until as small gust of wind, cold, warm, playful, sad, _chained_ (and forever so, Sandy sadly noted), settled into the center of their little sand shelter.

"What ya going on 'bout?" Bunny grumped, an ear still pressed to the wall of sand.

_What sound does a wolf make, _the Voice continued, North turning to her, _a howl of rage, or a howl of tears?_

"When family dies," North sighed, "howl of tears?"

A light bulb flashed into existence over Sandy's head, eyes widening, _he never had a chance to cry!_

Bunny snorted, "What type of rage spirit cries?"

"Howl." North laughed, slapping his belly, "we make him howl, though" he suddenly looked to the side, "how we go about doing?"

_Howl of tears, _the Songstress laughed softly, _leave that to me, but you'll have to distract him, force him into such a state where he cannot ignore my song. _

"You're seriously creeping me out Sheila." Bunny nervously chuckled, moving away, "what on earth are ya?"

The wind seemed to give a small twisted smile, a twirl, a haunting laugh, before she was off; _I am the embodiment of trapped freedom. _

"So," Bunny muttered after a few seconds, itching one huge furry foot with another, "what do ya suppose we do now?"

"Charge!" Cried North suddenly, throwing Bunny off balance and right onto a surrounding wolf (for Sandy had lowered his shield in less than a second, something he prided himself on and actually gave him an advantage whenever Jack challenged him to snowball fights). As Jack had predicted, most of Loup's army had been eradicated. And, just as Sandy predicted, Bunny was instantly about hopping from one foe to the next, attempting to use the few enemies left as means to warm up his frozen feet (for Jack truly had turned the surrounding area into something akin to the Antarctic, though, sadly, in testament of his exhaustion, not as cold).

But Bunny was quick, and made sure never to stay with his feet planted on the back of a fire wolf long before he'd jump into the snow and charge the next one. Truly like a Kangaroo.

With an inner snicker, Sandy quickly went about destroying the rest of the fire wolves. His golden whips dancing around North as they struck at those whom the Russian was too distracted to get.

Soon (or too quickly, in Bunny's opinion), the three where left with only Loup and the Songstress, her soft song, a lulling sad melody, carried in snowflakes that seemed to dance and twirl about the wolf. "So," Bunny drawled as the three Guardians circled their enemy, "ready to give up?"

_Catch him!_ The Voice cried suddenly, _hold him! We only need a few seconds, please!_

Too busy concerning themselves with pouncing the wolf, the three didn't notice the use of "we" and thus didn't have a chance to look up (for once they were all atop the wolf, his form flaring and sputtering, singing and burning, they had little chance to look up again) as a new voice, sounding quit similar to one Jack Frost, joined the Songstress in her song weaving.

"Momma," the duo sang, "momma please don't cry," the wolf stiffened for but an instant before his struggling picked up again.

"Everything's gonna be alright, the fire may be bright, the smoke strong.

But momma, you have to be brave.

I know it must be hard,

I know it must be painful,

But Momma, you gotta leave this place,

You gotta move on, please,

Mother, I can't stand to see you're tears.

See?

The pain, isn't all that bad, the smoke, not too harsh,

Mother, I promise I'm going to be alright, I already see heaven's gate, opening for me.

So, please, Mother, Momma, please, please, take the little ones,

Take them and run,

Mother, _please_,

Father's calling, hear him?

Please, leave, Mommy, there's nothing you can do now, go, take the little ones and _run!"_

How it was anyone could turn such a heart wrenching memory into an equally heart wrenching song was beyond Sandy's scope of understanding (not that he'd ever admit that), but it did the trick. Smoking, coughing, the three untangled themselves and stood in a wary circle around the silent wolf, his form crushed into the ground, flames nothing more than mere flickers of fading candlelight. Eventually, the wolf whimpered, "Momma didn't listen," his voice quivered, "she couldn't leave me behind, she said, but there was so much hate in Mommy's eyes then, so much pain, and, and…" the wolf sobbed, nearly breaking North's heart, "she didn't run with the little ones, _she didn't run away_! She took everyone; Papa included, and led them in an attack against the invading humans." The flames where almost out, quivering and flickering as Jack and the Songstress joined the circle, the winters child placing a calming hand of the wolfs back.

"It's all my fault!" Loup cried, "they all died! All of them, slaughtered!" shivering the wolf took comfort in Jack's frozen hand, seeming not to notice how frost was slowly eating away at his flames, "If I hadn't foolishly decided to go out and play, then maybe…maybe," his eyes dropped, "Maybe the humans wouldn't have attacked, they wouldn't have noticed our home."

"Maybes," North sighed, kneeling down by the dying wolf, "make men crazy."

Bunny nodded, though he stayed firmly away from Jack and the spreading frost, "It's alright to let it all out, ya know?"

Sandy placed a comforting hand on the wolf's now normal muzzle, smiling softly, golden head nodding, not needing words.

With a sigh, a gulp of air (and Sandy quickly moving out of the way), Loup let out his last howl, his last and final cry. And then he vanished, a small fluttering flame lighting the air where he once lay before it too vanished.

With one giant relieved sigh all but the Songstress plopped down into the snow, Bunny for once not complaining. They sat in companionable silence, eyes looking to the sky, before North let out a bellowing laugh, "Didn't know you could sing!"

Before Jack could rebuke, Bunny, Sandy, and the Voice all snickering, a voice that could only belong to one Jamie Bennett called out, "Isn't his voice lovely?"

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**A/N: Yes, this will have a happy ending; so no worries, no tears—unless I suddenly decide to have Jamie hit with an airplane *laughs*. **

**And to all those who are confused, Loup was being emotionally trapped, he has freedom, but as a rage spirit he was not allowed to feel remorse, he was not allowed to cry or howl in emotional pain, only physical. So, as the Songstress said, he is a freedom trapped. While she, held to the wind, understood—and known—by few, and unable to go anyplace Jack has not gone himself, has a trapped freedom; for she is by no means emotionally trapped. In fact, most spirits complain that she's a wee bit too free with her emotions. **

**Also, I have this love/hate relationship going on with this chapter. One minute I'm gushing over how well done it is, and then next I'm seething in fury at how lame it sounds. Maybe it's because the song wasn't really that songy…**

**Well, besides that, as always, remember the magic three. **


	21. To laugh again

**Disclaimer: I own naughta**

**Chapter twenty one:To laugh again  
**

"For everyone and everything

The futures call is but a dream

And knights of glass of frozen blue

See storm flowers of oceans too"

-original

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_Recap: __Before Jack could rebuke, Bunny, Sandy, and the Voice all snickering, a voice that could only belong to one Jamie Bennett called out, "Isn't his voice lovely?"_

"J…Jamie?" Jack cried, head whipping around and ice-cavern eyes wide as they reflected Jamie's tired appearance, barley noticing Tooth and the others as they trailed behind.

"Though, I suppose this is the first time Jack's sung in front of an audience," Jamie sighed, walking toward the group, eyes never leaving Jack's face, "usually he'd sing when I'm asleep," a light chuckle came, a twinkling of brown eyes, "or, at least, when he thought I was asleep."

Sandy huffed at this, tiny arms crossing over his chest, the declaration that someone would dare (or could dare) be even the slightest bit awake through his nightly delivery of dreams annoying him. But, as usual, no one paid attention, though the Songstress did giggle, delivering a slight poke to his shoulder and whispering of waking dreams, or dreaming wake, just before the plunge into the depths of sleep, or the climbing out thereof.

"Tooth," cried Bunny—no longer in the mood to deal with the cold (or anything related)—rushing over to her flittering form, wings halting every now and again, and fairies buzzing around her, each chirping encouragement, "Ya alright Sheila?"

"Do I look alright?" the she asked tiredly, head lulling forward into soft fur, just as Jamie got knocked over by an enthusiastic Jack. Whose white hair danced back and forth as he rubbed his face into Jamie's chest, tears of joy streaming down his face as he cried over and over and over, "You remember!"

It was a good thing too, otherwise Tooth and her fairies would have swooned over how cute the two were, and probably passed out due to the energy exerted, as it were, Mrs. Bennett had enough energy to do enough awing for the both of them, and Cupcake, not wanting to have her brain fried, wacked her upside the head and yelled a mightily as she could (which was loud enough to rival North's laughs) "Shouldn't we all go someplace to rest?"

Startled, everyone stared at her in silence, before, finally, North laughed, slapping his grumbling belly he declared, "To the Pole we go! To rest, to eat," with a wink directed at the blushing Jamie he added, "to make up for time lost."

So, with the exception of Bunny (who used a tunnel) and the Songstress (who danced off to who knows where), everyone jumped onto the sleigh.

Yes, completely forgetting about the poor people huddled in the church—not that it mattered, for with a laugh, a twirl, the Voice made sure other humans got the message, and came to the town's aid—perhaps, just maybe, her song enchanted snowflakes had possibly influenced this decision, maybe…most certainly…

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Once at the pole North promptly demanded a feast, Sandy hovering in a corner quietly using his whips to snatch up candies, cookies, and the like without anyone's notice (this was one of the rare occasions where he found being ignored advantageous), while Bunny hopped to and fro, looking for carrots and demanding the elves to stop trying to color his fur, and Tooth (along with her army) plopped down in a downy nest hidden in the woodworks of the ceiling, allowing her full view of what was going on while also offering her rest.

Jamie and Jack?

Just as North had declared, making up for lost time. _No, not like that_, the wind giggled from outside the window.

"So," Jamie began awkwardly, eyes roaming around the room North had told a yeti to toss them into, "I guess everything's over with."

Jack nodded, eyes roaming as well as he sat beside Jamie on the bed, unsure of what to do for but a moment before he took a deep breath, said what the heck, and tackled Jamie once more, tickling him mercilessly.

"J…Jack!" Jamie cried behind laughs, hands failing to swat away Jack's intent ones, but as Jack continued to ignore his cries, a smile full of tears on his face, Jamie decided he'd had enough, and quickly changed their positions. Now on top the Snow Prince, pinning his wrists above his head, Jamie grinned, "I win," he sing-songed, finally acknowledging the twisting of his gut as he found looking into Jack's eyes too difficult.

"Jamie…I—"

"I love you."

"Eh?" Caught off guard the face of tears and quilt fell into confusion, blue eyes blinking up into determined brown as a snowy head tilted to the right.

"You're adorable." Jamie sighed.

"And you're on something." Jack quipped.

"Yeah, its name is Jack Frost."

"Hardy har har," Jack jokingly laughed, eyes squinting, "since when did you have a sense of humor?"

"That wasn't humor, that was fact."

"So, you aren't sitting on me right now?"

"Stop changing the meaning of my words."

"I didn't."

The two stared at each other, lonely blue clashing with conflicted brown, so many years, so many years they spent chasing each other, longing for each other, yet here they finally were, and they hadn't the slightest idea how to proceed. They couldn't simply kiss and make up, too many things had happened, Jamie falling under Old winter's control had altered their relationship, wounded it, made them scared. And the years without each other had left deep scars. But neither were the type to give up easily, and they loved each other too much to simply turn away, and, besides, they seemed to agree with a grin, eyes slowly lighting and happiness bubbling from the bottom of their hearts, they had made it, through everything that's happened, they had made it.

Laughter filled the room, relief, joy, finally making itself known. So long as they had each other they'd make it work. Somehow, someway, they'd move on, sure, they wouldn't be able to go back to the good old days, not with the blood on Jack's hands, not with the stain on Jamie's soul, no, it would be better.

"So," called a voice from outside the room, "are you two done making out yet? Or do I need to come in there and drag you two to the feast?"

The lovers smiled at each other, grin's forming on their faces before they softly slide off from the bed, moving onto opposite sides of the door, each armed with a pillow.

"You guys!" called the voice again, the stomp of the foot a mark of Cupcake, "Don't tell me you're asleep already!"

Laughing softly the two nodded to each other before they looked to the opening door, waiting…waiting…before they slammed the pillows into Cupcake and sent her flying onto a slab of ice Jack created, her form screaming as she slid, backward, all the way to the dining hall.

The two gave a high-five, grin's splitting their faces only to be turned sheepish as their bellies growled as one.

"Ready for some food?" Jack asked, offering up his hand.

"Definitely."

And the two were off, Jack and Jamie laughing as one as they flew through the halls…

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"You are aware," Mrs. Bennett sighed, sitting outside, staring at the moon, "that Jack would probably break if he lost Jamie again."

_I know, _whispered MiM, ever tired as he spoke to the women, whom, as a girl, had cried to him over and over, begging for something to be done about her awful arranged marriage and wishing, _wishing_, to know who had left behind the carving of her beloved hamster*.

"Can't we do something? He might have his memories back now, but if Jamie reincarnates and doesn't remember Jack for some time…" the idea was left hanging in the air.

_Something has already been done._

"You mean…"

_Everything is going as planned_, a fond sigh was heard, _well, almost everything._

"But enough." Mrs. Bennett almost begged, jumping up and her hands clasped before her in an eternal plea, "Enough has gone as planned that…?"

_Yes, _MiM laughed, enjoying the smile that blossomed on the mother's face, _the result is still the same. _

"Do they know?" She asked eagerly, eyes bright.

_Not yet, but they will, _MiM grinned.

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**A/N: Thanks for the reviews! And I hope this is fluffy enough for you. Next chap you'll learn what on earth MiM plan. Beyond that, as always, remember the magic three. **

***Go look at the one-shot "The Little Things" for the carving explanation. **


	22. To sleep again

**Disclaimer: I own naughta**

******The sequel "What a sight we make" is up and running, for those interested.**

**Chapter twenty two: To sleep again**

"The somnolent skies have ceased seething, for day's nearly through  
And the winds echo whispering thoughts of returning to you.  
The heavens throb, pulsing and bleeding in crimsons, once blue,  
Their passions, like flames, fill my veins as you pass into view;  
The breeze holds its breath as you touch and embrace me anew  
And smouldering clouds withdraw, blushing, and paling their hue.

The twilight is painted with wandering dreams of your charms  
So close your eyes slowly and slip into sleep in my arms.

The pendulous moon appears, sweeping the fog from up high  
Distilling the drops into notes of a hushed lullaby,  
The quivering tunes unfold tales which amaze, mystify,  
The stories they tell reflect love as revealed by your sighs,  
And tremulous stars fling a fire that fevers the skies,  
Their fury is burning, alive in the depths of your eyes.

The twilight is painted with wandering dreams of your charms  
So close your eyes slowly and slip into sleep in my arms.

The desolate shores moan, seduced by tempestuous tides  
Which flow in the rhythm of flesh as our senses collide,  
A quiet explodes from the stillness of night amplified,  
A lingering kiss bids adieu till the morning breaks wide  
When roosters come conjuring dawn with voluptuous pride  
Enticing the sun into scything the night, starry-eyed.

The twilight is painted with wandering dreams of your charms  
So close your eyes slowly and slip into sleep in my arms."

-Sleep In My Arms Lullaby by Terry O'Leary, peomhunter

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"What!" Cried the Guardians, ex-Guardian, and humans (minus one Mrs. Bennett) as one; staring up at the moon, jaws dropped and eyes wide.

MiM laughed at the scene, silently asking the mother to snap a quick picture, which she did, unnoticed by all but the chuckling Songstress.

_You heard correctly, _MiM replied, tossing a moon beam into Bunny's face before he could interrupt, _Jamie is now immortal. _

"But how?" pleaded the one in question, torn between dancing in glee and smacking his head into a wall at the shear randomness of the declaration—which was done ten minutes into the feast.

_Old winter's successor is an anomaly in the system, _all the Guardians scoffed at that, leaving Jack slightly annoyed—which thus resulted in thrown snowballs and a slight scuffle before MiM continued, _as such, _his voice boomed, causing all fighting participants to shyly glance away from each other and float, walk, or hop to other sides of the room. _His chosen is also an anomaly, even more so with some of the predecessor's lingering influence. _

"Lingering influence?" Cried Tooth, anger and fear in her eyes, "But I killed him!"

_Indeed you have, but no one can live that long with someone of such power without absorbing some of it. It was a necessary event; otherwise Jamie's body would have rejected the foreign energy and wound up killing itself…_

"Well, isn't that a cheerful image," Jack scowled, icicles forming on the ceiling and frost spreading on the floor before Jamie's comforting hand was placed on his shoulder and a light peck delivered to his lips.

"So he now has power?" North asked in confusion, pointedly ignoring the sight while Tooth fainted, Mrs. Bennett cheered, and Cupcake smirked. "Do you mean his body has adjusted to powers of Old winter so much that it's become immortal?"

A small smile was felt, _something like that, though, mainly, the only reason why such a thing was possible was because of Jack's subconscious protection. For each Winter Bringer gives a piece of themselves to their successor._

_You're making this confusing on purpose, _Sandy, floating around, accused with a small smile of his own.

"Does sound difficult to explain," North said with a nod, "but not impossible."

"What does it matter?" Bunny grumped from a corner of the room, "Jamie's stuck with us forever weather we know the reason or not."

"Agreed," declared Cupcake, before almost shrinking under the stares, "well, he's stuck with you lot forever, so you have an eternity to figure it out on your own. Right now don't you think we have better things to do?"

"Like eat?"

"Celebrate?"

"Watch the two make out?"

The last one earned several stares, each directed at a slightly sheepish Tooth—who had just woke up-"what? They're cute!"

"There is something seriously wrong with ya Sheila."

"Is not!"

"Is too!"

While the rest bickered and fought the laughing lovers walked back to their room (of course, not before they snatched up a cake or two), ignoring how the moon smiled knowingly at their backs, or the wind whooped.

"So," Jack declared after they closed the door, placing the stolen treats on the table, "let's test out these supposed powers."

Jamie blinked, "you're not mad?"

"Mad?" Jack asked with a tilt of his head, "why on earth would I be mad with you? All you did was live, if you gained immortality and some powers off from that, well, all the better."

"It's still rather confusing," Jamie sighed, allowing his head to droop, "does this mean I still have a little of Old winter left inside me? Does it mean that I can still harm you?"

"Oh, little one," the Snow Prince sighed, cupping the others jaw and forcing him to look into ice-cavern eyes, "confusing it may be, but the Guardians themselves are a rather confusing existence, don't ya think? Besides, as MiM said, each predecessor gives the successor a bit of themselves, which means I'm the one with some of Old winter left, you—" Jack emphasized with a poke to the chest, "-however, have an eternal part of me. Which, of course, means you can indeed harm me; but you won't, we both know it would break your heart."

With a huff, a jerk of the head, and some rather teary eyes Jamie moved back a little, raising his hand over Jack's head and retorted, "I'm taller then you."

"Oh," came a rather sinister grin, a sparkling of eyes, "well if that's how you want to do this…"

His reply was a rather girlish squeal as Jamie was suddenly assaulted by Iceling teddy bears, before the now immortal jumped out the window and into the snow bellow, if Jack noticed how the wind caught Jamie and softened his fall, he didn't let it stop him from giving chase. If Jamie noticed how by his feet small snowman formed and tackled the approaching Icelings, he never allowed it to show in his steady run. And if either noticed how Jamie was running around the North Pole in only a t-shirt and thin jeans, neither commented.

Only when Jack tackled Jamie from behind, sending them both tumbling down a small hill, laughing and giggling as they clutched at each other and tickled and pocked, did they pause for a breath, fingers intertwined as they stared up into the midnight sky.

"Jack?"

"hhmm?"

"Do you think the others will be worried?"

"Nah, they're probably too tipsy to notice."

"Tipsy?"

"You'll see."

"Why does that make me have a bad feeling?"

"…don't know."

"…"

"…"

"Jack?"

"Yes?"

"What about Mom and Cupcake?"

"…we'll handle that problem when it hit's us."

"But I—"

"Enjoy them while you can, spend time with them, make sure you mom doesn't go about bringing her mace to a retirement home…"

"I'm more worried about Cupcake beating up any old geezer who tries to tell her their life story…"

With a shared laugh at the produced images, the two curled towards each other, eyes meeting and hands clasping before they whispered tiredly, eyes drooping together, "I love you, till the last fallen snowflake, and the first chill in the air."

Smiles alighting their faces, the two snuggled close, forgetting all the previous worries and troubles…and fell asleep in each other's arms…

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**A/N: And we have finally reached the end. Thank you all for sticking with me for so long and enjoying this fic, otherwise it would have never reached this point. Thank you all so very, very, much. And I'm sorry if MiM explanation wasn't all that good, as you can probably see, that was the point, after all, if he explained everything, then everyone would know the extent of his meddling, which he doesn't want. I'm also sorry if the ending sucked…but I couldn't find any way to make it better…and if I continued it would lose the general feeling. **


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